


Roses in Winter

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 33,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: It's 1946 and the Doctor, the best private detective there is, receives a call from a young gentleman. Danny, who has just returned from war, came home to find his fiancé Edith has disappeared and he offers the Doctor a great sum to find her. The first thing the Doctor finds out about the vanished girl: her name is actually Clara and her story is more than fascinating. The longer he follows her the bigger his dilemma grows: give in to his feelings or help Danny reunite with Clara?





	1. Chapter 1

The Doctor lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, watching the smoke spread across the room, clouding his view on the man in front of him. He was young with dark skin, 30 at most, and he was leaning on a cane as if still recovering from an injury. The Doctor always took a mental note of these kind of details.  
“How did you find me?” the Doctor asked, his voice deliberately cold. People found him if they needed to, despite his cover. They always did.   
The stranger cleared his throat. “Someone mentioned it,” he explained, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you for your services of course.”  
“ _If_ I decide to take your case,” he replied, raising his eyebrows and at the same time scanning the man for every little piece of information he could find. Posture. Injury. A little scar under his eye that wasn’t yet faded, and an almost deadly look on his face. The man in front of him had served in the recent war. “You might sacrifice your pension. And for what?”  
The soldier’s face changed all of a sudden, taking on a sad, almost pained expression. Whatever he had come here for, it was a matter that hit close to the man’s heart.  
“I served in the RAF,” he began to explain, straightening his back as he did. Once a soldier, always a soldier, the Doctor thought. “My plane was struck down by the Nazis shortly before the war was over. I was severely injured, but-“  
“If you could come to the point any time soon, that would be just fantastic. I am not interested in your life story. I just want to know why you’re disturbing me in my office half past midnight,” the Doctor groaned, rolling his eyes in impatience. He hated pointless monologues more than he hated lies, at least he could see through the latter. Soldiers were just another addition on his list of things he wasn’t so very fond of.  
The man paused, looking straight at him. Unfortunately he didn’t seem intimidated at all. “When I finally returned home three months ago my fiancé had disappeared,” the soldier admitted, “She wasn’t at the flat we shared, and no one among our friends or at her work place has heard from her. She just vanished.”   
The Doctor couldn’t help but groan. He had had numerous appeals like this one and he had turned them all down. “Your fiancé is most likely dead.”  
The soldier who, as the Doctor realized now, still hadn’t introduced himself gritted his teeth. “I don’t think she is. I can’t-“  
“There was a war going on, in case you hadn’t noticed. Bombs have been dropped on London. Your fiancé isn’t the only person who went missing and most of them turned out to be dead,” the Doctor replied angrily. This case was a pure waste of his time.  
“Edith isn’t dead. She vanished,” the man pressed, now equally enraged, “She took some of her things, but not all.”  
“Then she left you. Probably,” he said. If his years as a doctor, and also those as a private detective had taught him anything, then that there were lies and betrayal to be found on every corner if you looked closely enough.   
Suddenly the soldier’s shoulders sank and the Doctor could hear a heavy sigh come over his lips. “Even if that is the case, I need to find her. I need to know why. Edith and I were happy, we wanted to get married during my next leave. She had even bought a wedding dress,” the man said, looking straight at the Doctor through sad eyes, “That was one of the things she left at our flat.”

The Doctor stared at the man in front of him and suddenly realized he would never get rid of him as easily as the others. He was determined, desperate. So eventually the Doctor nodded.  
The soldier immediately took this is as sign of agreement and stepped closer, drawing a photograph out of his pocket and placing it on the desk in front of the Doctor.   
“That is Edith right there,” he said, pointing at a pretty woman with dark hair and large eyes and he went on to explain something but the Doctor never heard him. As soon as he spotted the woman the Doctor knew that she seemed familiar somehow. He had seen her before, he was sure of that.   
“Her name is Edith Winter. We met in December 1943 while I was on leave for Christmas. It was in London, at a pub,” he explained.  
Still the Doctor only half listened. That face. He had seen that face. He was so sure and yet he couldn't tell where. However her name didn't ring a bell in his memory either.  
“What else can you tell me about her?” the Doctor demanded to know, finally looking up from the photograph.   
The soldier shrugged. “Not much. She works as a secretary at the Treasury but Edith never told me anything specific. It's sort of confidential, so we never really talked about it. She travels a lot to see her father in the countryside. He's sick from an old wound he got from the last war.”   
The Doctor raised his eyebrows, eyeing the man curiously. Something about his story didn't seem quite right and yet he couldn't put his finger on it. “And I assume you've spoken to someone at the Treasury and to her father?”  
“The Treasury, yes, but they said they have never even heard her name. I thought they wouldn't tell me because her work was confidential.”  
“And her father?” the Doctor pressed.  
Now the man seemed utterly crestfallen.   
“Well?”  
“God, you must think I am a terrible boyfriend,” he exhaled sharply, a desperate sound, “I don't know her dad's name. I don't know where he lives. Edith never mentioned it and we never went there together. I thought she had gone there to take care of him, but three months have passed since my return and I still haven't heard from her. Maybe she really did visit him, but I don't know where that is. I _need_ to find her. Please, will you help me?”  
Something wasn't right and it sparked the Doctor's curiosity. He couldn't tell what or why. Not yet. But he would get to the bottom of this. That was why he found himself agreeing.  
“Oh, thank God,” the man breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”  
The soldier was about reach for the photograph but the Doctor held him back. “I might need that,” he said and pocketed it before the other man had a chance.  
“That is the only picture I have of her,” he protested.  
“And you will get it back,” the Doctor replied bluntly, “But forgive me for not having a photographic memory so I could recall what your girlfriend looks like in case I need to.”  
“Fine,” he hissed after a moment of hesitation.  
“What's _your_ name?” the Doctor prompted, now realizing that the soldier still hadn't introduced himself.  
“Danny,” he said, “Danny Pink.”  
The Doctor snorted. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous man. “Alright, then, Danny Pink. You will hear from me. But right now I'd like to call it a night if you don't mind.”  
He gave a nod in reply. “Thank you.”  
“I'll do my best but I can't make any promises,” the Doctor said coldly.  
“I understand. Still – thank you,” Danny Pink said before he turned around and a few seconds later the Doctor heard the front door close.   
He drew out the photograph once more and looked at it, at Edith, and something told the Doctor that this case would be an interesting one.


	2. Chapter 2

Clara Oswald made her way past the masses of people waiting at the doors of the Underground train and headed outside, glad to finally breathe in some fresh air again, and glad because she would soon be home. The day had been a tiring one and after a stressful day at school she had decided to visit the cinema. They had played some soppy love story that had made her regret this decision 15 minutes after the film had started. Clara wasn't exactly lucky in love and the last thing she needed was a reminder.  
She turned around the corner and saw that the lights in the shop under her flat were still on, so Clara drew out her key and decided to say hello to her friend. Amy was a writer, but during and after the war there hadn't been a great demand for those. So instead she had taken over her late aunt's tailoring and cleaner's business. Amy and her husband Rory shared the flat over the shop and they had rented out the smaller place under the roof to Clara right after the war had been over. They had struck up a friendship instantly and Clara was still grateful for that. She had needed friends back then more than anything, and she still needed them now.  
“Working late again?” Clara asked when she had stepped inside.  
Amy looked up from the sewing machine and smiled. “Rich client. Tips generously.”  
“I see,” she dropped her bag by the chair and sank down next to Amy, “But that's not going to finish your book, is it? I'm dying to read the next chapter.”  
Amy laughed. “I will finish it some time this week, I promise. But in the meantime we have to eat.”  
Clara sighed audibly. “I know. But can't you at least give me a little hint?” she gave Amy a pleading smile but soon noticed that it was no use at all. “Fine. I'll wait.”  
“How was school? You're home late. Or are you seeing someone?” her friend cocked her eyebrow curiously.  
“School was alright, except for some students. I'm afraid I will have to speak to the headmaster if Karl doesn't change.”  
“Or you could-” Amy broke off when Clara threw her a stern glance.  
“I told you I'm not flogging my students, no matter how badly they misbehave. I'm not that kind of teacher and I hate that corporeal punishment is still allowed. As if these kids haven't been through enough already,” Clara replied harshly, “It's a tough adjustment. A strange country, a strange language, most of them lost their families. I can't blame them for being angry sometimes.”  
If Clara could tell Amy the entire story, she would probably understand, and maybe she should. The war was over. There was no real reason she should keep that secret any longer, but Clara didn't really like to talk about it. The things she had seen were still haunting her and she would just love to wipe them from her memory altogether.  
“You didn't answer my question,” Amy suddenly changed the topic, “You're home late. Have you met someone?”  
Clara exhaled sharply. “No, I just went to see a film. I haven't met anyone.”  
“You should,” Amy granted her a smile, “You're young and pretty and smart and-”  
“Amy, I am not single because I want to be. Trust me, I am looking, but it's not that easy. A nice man is hard to come by these days.”  
“Are you sure you're not still-”  
“Danny is dead. I know that he won't come back and I am not waiting for a miracle to happen that brings him back to life for me. But I've done my grieving, I've moved on. I just haven't met anyone yet,” Clara replied defensively, but quickly softened her tone, “It's not so easy, Amy. You were lucky. Your man came back and he is a dream husband. I haven't found my Rory. Not yet. I hope that I will some day.”  
“I'm sure you will,” Amy told her kindly and Clara rose from her seat, reaching for her bag.  
“I better go to bed now. Don't stay up too late,” she told her friend, but Amy's eyes were fixed on the shop window. “Hey, did you hear me?”  
Clara turned to look out of the window, but she couldn't spot anything that might have caught Amy's attention.  
“Yeah, sorry,” Amy replied and now looked back at her, “Sorry, I just thought I saw someone.”  
Clara gave a shrug. “I didn't. Good night,” she said as she headed towards the stairs in the back.  
“Good night.”

* * *

The Doctor closed up his practice and walked upstairs where he occupied the other rooms, calling them his flat. He hardly ever used them except for sleeping and most of the time he slept very little. During the day, most days at least, he worked as a doctor, a profession he had loved once before he had served as an army doctor during the First World War. After that nothing had ever been the same. He had been young and naïve to think he could make a difference. Sure, he had saved lives and many of them, but he had come to hate the business of patching people up when it had been their own stupidity to get involved in a war and get them themselves injured. Now his practice was a way to make a living and a cover, nothing more, because once his practice closed for the day, he was a private detective and he was pretty damn good at that. Maybe that profession had disillusioned him only further, but that was just the way it was. He liked it. Lived for it. Uncovering secrets. Solving cases. One after the other. He doubted he would ever stop. 

Yet the latest one was on his mind more than it probably should be. While the Doctor waited for the kettle to boil, he once more drew out the picture and looked at the young woman called Edith. He had seen that face before, but he couldn't for the life of him remember where. Edith, working at the treasury, visiting her father in the countryside, disappearing without a trace. The Doctor knew he was probably staring at the photograph of a dead woman, but even if that was true, there was a secret to be uncovered, he just knew it. The soldier that had visited him today was a daft boy, unable to see that what that woman had told him had been lies. The Doctor didn't even know her and he could tell. It just didn't add up. The confidential job at the treasury, the trips to visit her nameless father in the countryside. No, that wasn't what Edith had done, if that was her name at all. He would find out. He always did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the sweet comments :) And now the mystery deepens. Was has Clara been up to back then?

The Doctor had done his homework. Not about Edith, but about the man who had come to see him. Danny Pink was an orphan, admitted to an orphanage in Gloucester after his mother had died in childbirth. His father, also a soldier, had disappeared during the First World War and after Danny had joined the Royal Air Force as well to fight in the war that followed, it seemed that he had met the same fate. The Doctor had learned from his sources that Danny's plane had been struck down over Germany just before the Germans had surrendered – but he had survived, if barely so. The war had cost him his leg and he had been confined to a German hospital. Over a year later Danny had been well enough to return home to his fiancé – who had vanished in the meantime.  
To find out what might have happened to her, the Doctor decided to visit an old friend, even though _friend_ didn't quite seem to be the right word. James Mendon was a pig, but they had been forced to work together during the war. Government business. Catching spies. The Doctor wasn't proud of the detective work he had done back then because together they had caused the deaths of dozens of people. Times had been bad and he had needed the money. However, James had thoroughly enjoyed it and as far as the Doctor knew, he was still boasting about how many foreign spies he had personally executed. But if the Doctor had seen Edith before, then maybe so had James. They had mixed with the same kind of people after all.

The Doctor walked into the police station and headed straight for Mendon's office, and even though some of the officers tried to stop him, he walked into the office without even knocking. Mendon's head shot up.  
“Doctor,” he uttered in surprise, “What an unexpected surprise. I didn't think I'd see you again.”  
“Don't worry. I just have a few questions for a case, then I'll be on my way again,” the Doctor replied harshly.  
James sighed. “You know I can't give out classified information. Not in my current position.”  
“It's not classified,” he said and drew the picture of Edith out of his pocket, laying it down in front of Mendon, “It's about the old days. Do you remember this woman?”  
The Doctor watched his former colleague closely as he bent over the picture and he could have sworn he saw a flicker of amusement cross over the man's face before he leaned back again and shook his head.  
“Nope, never seen her,” he replied abruptly, staring straight at the Doctor. And then he blinked.  
“Liar,” the Doctor hissed.  
James laughed. “What?”  
“You're lying. When you looked at the photo you recognized her. It was written all over your face. I need to find her,” he said urgently.  
Still his old colleague snorted. “Well, if you find her, send her to me after you're done. She's a gorgeous looking thing, but I don't know her. I've never seen her in my life.”  
Mendon shifted in his seat, a nervous gesture, and if the Doctor hadn't been sure he was lying before, he was damn sure now. He knew Edith, he remembered her. But for some reason he didn't feel like sharing that information.  
The Doctor decided that it didn't matter. He knew now where to look for her. He bent forward and collected the picture, placing it neatly back onto his pocket.  
“Well, thank you for your time,” he said and turned towards the door.

On his way out he didn't cross paths with any other police man and, when he realized that he was unobserved, the Doctor grabbed one of the police uniforms from a desk and headed outside. One of those might come in handy at some point.

The Doctor stopped by a flower shop down the street, buying a small bouquet before his next stop. The area of London was a little run down, shabby, but cheap. It was all a woman like Madge could afford these days. She used to work in the bunker as a typist, but after the war cabinet had dissolved, there had been no place for an elderly woman like her.  
“Hello Madge,” the Doctor said sweetly when she opened the door and a smile spread over the lady's face when she spotted the flowers.  
“Doctor, what a lovely surprise,” Madge beamed at him when she took the flowers from his hands, “Come inside, I was just about to make a cup of tea.”  
The Doctor stepped into the humble flat while Madge set out to prepare their tea and he had a look around, immediately spotting her favourite typewriter.  
“You're working again?” he asked curiously.  
“Yes. A couple of jobs came in. Nothing big, but enough to live off. What about you? Are you working for the police now?” she nodded towards the uniform in his hands.  
“Oh, uhm, no,” he admitted. The Doctor could admit this sort of thing to her. “I kind of nicked that just now.”  
Madge laughed. He had always liked her, even back then.  
“I suppose there's a reason you're here?” she cocked an eyebrow at him as she handed him a steaming teacup.  
The Doctor thanked her. “To visit a lovely lady, of course.”  
“And who is she?”  
They both laughed at that, but eventually the Doctor decided to come to the point. He retrieved the photograph from his pocket and handed it to Madge while they sat down around the coffee table.  
“I have a new case. Someone is looking for the young woman in that photograph. I was wondering if you know her, because she seems familiar to me, but I can't place her,” he explained.  
Madge smiled at the photo in her hands and for a moment it seemed as if she was lost in nostalgia.  
“You know her, don't you?”  
“Yes,” Madge confirmed, still smiling, “Lovely girl. Big heart.”  
Suddenly her expression changed to something sad, something dark. “Shame what happened to her.”  
“Why? What happened? Who is she?” the Doctor demanded to know.  
Madge handed the photo back to him. “Her name is Clara Oswald. She was at the bunker many times, I don't really recall what her job was, but she was always so sweet. I was there when she got the news about her fiancé's death. Poor thing. His plane was hit just hours before the Germans surrendered. I tried to comfort her, but she just stormed out. I never saw her after that.”

Clara Oswald. So she had indeed lied about her name to Danny Pink. And if she had been at the bunker, which was where he might have seen her before, she had probably lied about her job as well. But if Clara Oswald was her real name, he could find her. If she was still alive.  
“And you really don't know what her job was?” the Doctor asked her once more.  
Madge shook her head. “I'm sorry. No. Why are you looking for her?”  
“An old friend lost track of her during the war,” he explained.  
“And old friend who doesn't know her name?”  
The Doctor rose from his seat and granted Madge a smile. “I better get going. Some of my cases need solving.”  
“If you find her, say hi from me. Tell her life gets better,” she said.  
“I will.”

* * *

Clara was walking down the school corridors when she suddenly thought she heard a sound coming from one of the storage rooms. She stopped and listened closely. Sobbing. After a careful knock Clara entered the room and saw one of her students, a small boy named Gideon, cowering on the floor. He was an intelligent, if very quiet child.  
“Hey there,” Clara said quietly and granted him a light smile, “Do you want some company?”  
The boy looked up but didn't reply. Clara decided to take that as a yes as she sank down next to him.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked him, her voice careful. Gideon remained silent. “Has someone been picking on you? Was is Karl?”  
“No,” the boy croaked and sniffed some more.  
“Well, if you tell me, maybe I can help. You know I'm always there for you, right? You can tell me anything,” Clara prompted him.  
Finally Gideon looked at her, his eyes red from crying. “Sirach found a family,” the boy admitted and was instantly overcome by tears again, which he quickly hid behind the sleeve of his school jacket.  
Now Clara understood what was happening. Sirach was Gideon's best friend and room mate at the orphanage. They had come to England together and had been inseparable ever since. Now Sirach had been adopted and the boy was devastated over the loss of his friend. It was understandable. He had already lost his home and family.  
“Where does his family live?” Clara asked him.  
The boy shrugged. “Can't pronounce it. It has lots of Ls.”  
Gently Clara placed her arm around Gideon in an attempt to comfort him, however hard that may be. “But you can still write to each other, right? Just because he found a family doesn't mean that he will forget you. He's never going to forget you, not after you've been through so much together. He's still your friend and you can see each other during the holidays and who knows – maybe you will also find a family soon, one that lives close by.”  
Clara knew very well that the chances of that happening were slim, but Gideon was a nice boy. He would make new friends and she was sure that in time he would find a family to adopt him as well. But right now there was little she could do to cheer him up, so she just sat with him until his tears had subsided.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comment :)

Clara Oswald had secrets, the Doctor knew that much. He had found her eventually, a seemingly ordinary teacher working at a seemingly ordinary school. But she was far from ordinary. And she hadn't always been a teacher. The false name. The visits to Churchill's bunker during the war. Clara Oswald had secrets and the Doctor was determined to find out what they were.  
He knew very well that he could close this case right now if he wanted to. He had found her. He was standing outside her school, waiting for her to come out and walk some of her students to the orphanage, like she had done on the days before. He could call Danny Pink and tell him he had found his missing fiancé. But the Doctor didn't. He wouldn't until he had figured out what exactly it was that Clara Oswald was hiding.

She stepped out of the building, followed by her students from the orphanage and the Doctor sank deeper into the shadows provided by the building across the street. He had worn a different coat and hat every day, the chances of her recognizing him again were slim, and yet he still hoped for the cigarette smoke to cloud his face. He didn't want to risk being seen. Not yet anyway. Not by Clara. And not by the other man who sometimes followed her.  
The Doctor had first taken notice of him on his third day of surveilling her and at first he had assumed it to be a coincidence. The other man, who constantly hid his face under a hat, had waited outside her school for her and the children to come out. At first the Doctor had thought him to be the father of one of the children, but then he had followed Clara to the orphanage and to her home afterwards, only to disappear behind the next corner once she had stepped inside the tailor's shop. That man had appeared again two days later. And he was there today, lurking a few metres away from the school doors, and following Clara as soon as she had exited the building. Whatever the man's intentions, he didn't seem eager to share them with Clara yet. 

The Doctor watched as Clara delivered her students at the front door of the orphanage, saying goodbye to each of them personally. She seemed like a nice teacher, a nice person and he understood why Danny wanted her back so desperately, because she was also very pretty. He sometimes caught pieces of conversations exchanged between the children, broken English, English with a heavy accent, some German. These children were of Jewish origin, but some of them seemed a little young to have arrived here before the war. However Clara seemed to be taking very good care of them as a teacher, the Doctor could tell by the fondness with which they looked at her. Except for that one little bastard, a tall kid with impossible manners who constantly bullied the other children. Clara tried her best with him, but the boy wasn't intimidated by a teacher who was shorter than himself.  
When he thought he had seen enough for the day the Doctor turned around and headed in the opposite direction before anyone could spot him. Maybe tomorrow he would find something new.

* * *

Clara headed straight home, hungry, cold and a little annoyed because Karl's behaviour seemed to get worse with every single day. When the headmaster had had no other suggestion than the too common flogging, Clara had stormed out of his office, determined to find another way to get Karl to behave.  
She drew the jacket a little closer around her body to protect her from the cold, already looking forward to a nice, hot bowl of soup at home when she thought she could hear steps behind her. There was absolutely nothing unusual about footsteps in a city like London, yet something about those made her blood run cold. She just knew she wanted to get away from whoever was behind her as soon as possible.  
Clara turned around the corner, taking a shortcut to her home that led through a small back street, hoping to get rid of the steps behind her. But they still followed. Furious now, Clara shot around and stared straight into the face of a strange man.  
He smiled at her, but somehow it didn't make her feel even remotely better. There was something creepy about him, something sinister. She just wanted to get away, but she wouldn't let him see how scared she actually was.  
“Hello Miss Oswald,” the stranger said, still smiling that sly smile. It was almost disgusting.  
Clara scanned his look from head to toe. “How do you know my name?”  
He shrugged. “Your students called you that. I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear.”  
He didn't seem sorry about that at all, and he had followed her here from her school. All of those things told Clara that she should get away from him as quickly as possible.  
“You might not remember me, but I do. During the war-”  
“Oh, you lived in Suffolk during the war, too?” Clara interrupted him nervously. If that man knew her from back then, he would know she was lying. She always lied about that time. To everyone. But if that man truly knew her, he was a danger to her.  
“I noticed you,” the stranger continued, “And I would like to take you out to dinner.”  
“Sorry,” Clara shrugged, “But I've already got plans.”  
She turned around to leave and, out of the corner of her eye, saw that the strange man tried to reach for her arm. So she made a run for it.

Clara dashed around the nearest corner and along the next street as fast as she could until her lungs were beginning to sting. The man wasn't following her, but still she ran, desperate to get away as quickly as possible, desperate to get home, to safety.  
Luckily the tailor's shop was still open and Clara almost jumped inside, closing and locking the door behind her before she finally remembered to breathe.  
“Clara, what the hell is going on?” Amy asked her instantly. She had risen from her seat behind the sewing machine and was looking at her, the worry written all over her face.  
“There was a man,” Clara gasped, “He followed me from school.”  
She leaned back against the door and took a deep breath while Amy approached her, looking out of the shop window.  
“I can't see anything,” she said, “What did he want?”  
“He said he wanted to take me to dinner,” Clara swallowed. Her breathing was still too fast. “He was creepy. Tried to grab me, so I ran.”  
Amy looked at her for a long moment, obviously considering her words. “Maybe you should take a different route from school tomorrow. Just to be safe.”  
Then her eyes suddenly wandered back to the shop window.  
“You saw someone out there the other night, didn't you?” Clara asked her, “Was it a man with a hat?”  
Amy scoffed. “London is full of men in hats. It could have been anyone,” she tried to calm her, “But if it makes you feel better, I can tell Rory to pick you up tomorrow after school.”  
“No, it's fine,” Clara replied. It probably would. He hadn't followed her further after she had started to run from him. She was sure it would be fine. Clara had dealt with worse in her life than a creepy stranger.


	5. Chapter 5

He had chosen to wear the stolen police uniform today as the Doctor seemed to be running out of different coats. Clara hadn't noticed him so far and he wanted it to stay that way until he had figured out a little more about her. Yet two weeks had passed, two weeks of watching her intently, and still he hadn't learned anything new about her at all. She went to school, walked her students to the orphanage and went straight home to her flat above the tailor's shop in which she often chatted with the redhead who ran the place. They were friends, the Doctor had realized that when she had gone out to a dance with her and her husband during the weekend, but other than that Clara rarely had company. Except for the man she didn't know about, the one that followed her some days. The Doctor had tried to find out who he was and why he was after her, but so far he had always managed to give him the slip. It could be anything from a link to her past to a secret admirer who just hadn't had the courage to talk to her yet. He would figure it out. Eventually. Just like he would figure Clara out.

A smile spread over his face when she emerged from the building, a fashionable hat on her head and wearing one of her many dresses under her coat. The Doctor thought she must be freezing in these cold November temperatures but that didn't seem to prevent her from wearing them. Her students trailed after her as she led the way to the orphanage and the Doctor followed, like he always did, in the shadows, away from sight. Then the group suddenly stopped and he heard Clara yell for the first time.  
“I swear to God if you don't cut it out now, I will have you expelled from school!” she shouted at the tall boy who had once again been bothering a younger student.  
The boy only laughed and looked down at her. “What? Are you gonna tell my parents, too?”  
Even from the distance the Doctor could tell that Clara was at the end of her tether. She was trembling with rage and desperately tried to make herself taller, but even with heels she wasn't nearly the size of the boy she was trying to scold. She was in over her head with this one, the Doctor could tell.  
“No, but you will sit in detention until you remember what it is to be a decent human being!”  
When her student continued to laugh at her, the Doctor couldn't bear to watch any longer. He had wanted to remain in the shadows, but this little brat was driving even him nuts. So the Doctor, still in his uniform, approached the group with the stride of a real police man.  
“Is there a problem, Miss?” he asked calmly, “Do you want me to arrest this little rascal here?”  
The Doctor winked at Clara and watched as a wave of relief washed over her face when she was beginning to understand his game.  
“I don't think that will be necessary,” she replied, throwing a stern glance at the unruly student, “Karl was just about to apologize to Gideon.”  
Karl scoffed. “No, I wasn't,” he looked straight at the Doctor, “And you can't arrest me. I haven't done anything wrong.”  
“Oh, bullying younger and smaller children, that is a serious offence,” the Doctor remarked, his voice pointedly serious.  
“No, it isn't,” the boy argued, but quickly broke off when the Doctor drew a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket pocket. He watched that smug look fade from Karl's face.  
“Want to discuss that in a prison cell?”  
“Okay, that's enough,” he heard Clara say, “I think Karl deserves another chance. He can't be in detention when he's locked up with only bread and water.”  
“Are you sure, Miss? I have the handcuffs here, it's no trouble at all,” he suggested and watched with satisfaction as Karl's eyes grew even wider.  
“Very sure. Now let's go, children. Or your supper will get cold,” Clara told them, but the Doctor wasn't quite finished with Karl just yet.  
He slowly stepped closer and bent down to be at eye level with the bully. “I'll be watching you very closely. If I see you misbehave one more time-” the Doctor broke off and instead rattled the handcuffs in his hand.  
Karl swallowed hard and eventually nodded before he joined the other children in the group. 

“Thank you,” he suddenly heard Clara say. When he looked to his right she had fallen behind her students a little, waiting to speak to him once they were out of earshot, “Karl is a real. . . forgive my expression, pain in the arse. Some days I just don't know what to do with him.”  
“Never start with your final sanction,” the Doctor told her simply.  
Clara frowned at him.  
“You threatened him with expulsion from school, then with detention. He knows you don't mean it if you never go through with it. Next time he acts up, give him detention and see it through. But I'm sure he'll think twice about bugging the other children after today.”  
A smile spread over Clara's face. “I think so, too. And I will keep that mind. Thanks.”

The Doctor watched as Clara turned around and followed her students, walking them the rest of the way to the orphanage, and he realized that for a moment he had forgotten why he was surveilling her at all. Clara Oswald was a nice woman, a good teacher. If she had secrets, how bad could they really be? But it was his damned curiosity that just wouldn't let him rest.

* * *

Clara was still smiling about the encounter with the friendly police man when she made her way home. Something told her that after today Karl wouldn't give her so much grief, at least not for the next few weeks while he was scared the man would come back to arrest him the next time he acted up. That man had truly been a lifesaver in a moment where Clara had been about to lose her patience. If she ever saw him again, she vowed to thank him for helping her. Just the look on Karl's face had been absolutely worth it.  
Clara let out a cry when all of a sudden someone grabbed her from behind, but it was muffled by the hand over her mouth, and no sound was heard as she felt herself being dragged away around the nearest corner. She wriggled in his grip and tried to kick her attacker, but it was no use at all. The other person was stronger. Then her back hit a wall and she was staring right into the face of the stranger that had tried to attack her once before.  
Clara's heart was pounding in her chest and for a moment she couldn't even move to fight back when he drew a knife out of his pocket and held it against her throat.  
“Not so fast now, are you?” the stranger hissed, his hand still covering her mouth. Was she breathing? Clara wasn't sure anymore when the blade touched the skin on her throat.  
“Please,” she tried to say, but it only came out as a mumbling sound.  
It seemed to make the stranger laugh. “Begging? Oh, I like begging,” he grinned at her through a row of unnaturally white teeth. If only she could move and punch him, but her limbs were still frozen in shock.  
“I have two options for you: we can talk first. About what you did during the war. And have some fun later,” the blade dug deeper into her throat and Clara felt a sharp sting as her skin was being pierced, “Or have fun first and talk later. What should it be?”  
Clara mumbled against his hand, trying to protest and finally she found the strength to move. She wriggled against his grip, but it was no use at all. She just couldn't reach out to fight him, no matter how hard she tried. There was no escape now.  
When the man in front of her withdrew the knife and reached down to unzip his fly, Clara closed her eyes, praying that it would be over soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments! They always make my day <3

All of a sudden his weight was gone from above her and Clara was afraid to open her eyes and see what was happening, afraid of what she would find. She waited for a moment, waited for him to act. Yet nothing followed except for a groaning sound.  
When she finally opened her eyes, her attacker was lying on the ground and Clara had no idea what was going on.  
“Are you okay?”  
There was a gentle hand on her shoulder and when she turned around, she saw the police man from earlier standing right next to her. He was holding his right arm at a weird angle. He had _punched_ the man to the ground.  
“Yeah,” Clara breathed. She still couldn't form a complete sentence. Everything was weird somehow, as if her head was floating somewhere between the clouds.  
The man in front of her made an effort to get up, but the police man towered over him  
“Get lost!” he bellowed at him and Clara watched as if in trance when he rose from the ground and wiped the blood from his nose, glaring at the police man. Without saying anything else he walked away.

He walked away. Clara was safe. The police man had saved her.  
She was slowly beginning to come back to her senses when he took her by both of her arms and looked right at her.  
“Are you sure you're alright?” he asked once more.  
Clara cleared her throat. “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to you. I should probably go home now. Thank you.”  
She made an effort to walk away, but his grip around her arm held her back.  
“I'll walk you home. You seem in shock,” he said quietly and granted her a soft, almost calming smile.  
“I said I was fine,” Clara replied rather harshly, but then realized she had been about to head in the completely wrong direction. Her home was the other way.  
The police man stripped out of his uniform jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders, the warmth from his body still lingering on it as she wrapped it a little closer around her chest. Finally she decided to let him walk her home. He was right. And in his presence she was safe.  
“Thank you,” she repeated once they had walked for a bit, smiling up at him. Now protected from the freezing cold and her mind clearing a little from the initial shock, she was beginning to feel more like herself again, “You saved me. Twice actually.”  
The police man only shrugged.  
“What's your name?”  
“Uhm,” he hesitated, “People call me the Doctor.”  
“That's not a name,” Clara argued, “That's a title. And if you're a doctor, then why are you dressed like that?”  
The man smiled. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” the Doctor turned around to look at her, “My name is John Smith.”  
Clara shrugged. “That's quite common.”  
“That's why I prefer _the Doctor_.”

She came to a halt in front of the tailor's shop only moments later and realized that the lights were out. Amy and Rory had probably gone out into the city and she would have to stay alone for the next few hours. There had always been moments in her life that had scared her, but she had also always found the bravery to face challenges on her own. Clara would manage tonight on her own. Somehow.  
The Doctor rattled on the shop door after she had unlocked it and Clara frowned at him for doing so. “What are you doing? Amy will kill me if you ruin that. She had to replace it after a break-in only two years ago.”  
“Just checking if it's safe,” he replied, still eyeing the lock.  
“And is it?”  
The Doctor looked up at her and for a moment seemed to consider something. “I'd like to take a look inside the house. See if there's any spot that you could use to get in. If you don't mind.”  
Clara was well aware that he was a stranger with a strange name, but he had also saved her from being raped just twenty minutes ago. He wouldn't harm her, somehow she could feel that. And she really, really didn't want to be alone right now.  
She held the door open for him and the Doctor entered, looking around the shop with curiosity. He even followed her upstairs and upon seeing her small flat the Doctor gave her a horrified look.  
“Your window is broken,” he realized and walked across the room to that one broken window that she hadn't yet had the heart to mention to Amy and Rory. The wood of the frame had stretched and it didn't close all the way, leaving a gap for the cold winter air to come in. Yet Clara knew that Amy and Rory probably couldn't afford to fix it, not with the low rent she paid them. Clara had no intention of making them feel bad about it.  
“My attacker will hardly climb the wall and enter through the window,” Clara replied, feigning a laugh, “We're on the second floor.”  
“That's not the point,” the Doctor objected, “It's freezing in here. You could catch pneumonia.”  
“I have blankets,” she replied with a shrug and sank down on the sofa.  
Finally the Doctor let go of the subject of her window and approached her, taking a seat on the sofa next to her. “Let me have a look at your hands,” he told her.  
“What? Why?” But when she looked down, she instantly spotted the answer. There were grazes and some blood on her hands, probably from when her attacker had pressed her against the wall. She hadn't even noticed them.  
The Doctor rose from his seat again and walked over to her small kitchen counter, dampened a piece of cloth and before she knew it, he was beside her again, gently cleaning the wounds on her hands. Clara watched him the entire time, a soft smile forming around her mouth.  
“Did you get a tetanus vaccine?” the Doctor suddenly tore her from her thoughts.  
“I, erm,” Clara paused, “I'm not sure.”  
He placed the cloth aside and looked at her. “You should come into my practice tomorrow to get one. The grazes aren't bad, but I want to be sure. Now let me take a look at that cut.”  
The Doctor reached out to touch the mark her attacker's blade had left on her throat, but Clara stopped him, still eyeing him with curiosity and utter fascinating.  
“You really are a doctor, aren't you?” she asked.  
“Well, yeah.”  
“Why are you wearing a police uniform?”  
Now the Doctor looked away, avoiding her gaze. “That's a long story. And your cut will be fine. Just put a plaster on it and it will heal. I wouldn't put anything on your hands though. Let the wounds breathe as long as you don't plan to do excessive gardening.”  
He rose from his seat and reached into his pocket, handing her a card a short moment later. When Clara looked at it, she read his name and an address.  
“Come to my practice tomorrow, I'll give you the vaccine,” he explained, “And do something about that window.”  
Clara started to giggle. “Yes, Doctor.”  
He paused and for a while shifted between looking at her and looking at any other spot in the room.  
“Will you be okay on your own?”  
Slowly Clara nodded. “Yeah, I think I will. My friends should be home soon. Thank you. For everything you've done.”  
“I think I should go now,” the Doctor concluded, “You need rest.”

Clara locked the door of the shop behind him and watched as he vanished in the darkness, and for a moment she wished he hadn't left at all. Now that she was on her own, the fear was starting to creep back up as the memories of the attack returned to her. He had known her and he had wanted to know about her past. Clara knew that this was far from over, that he would come back eventually and the Doctor couldn't always be there to protect her.  
The Doctor. Clara took a deep breath before she headed back upstairs and decided to think about him instead, the man that had saved her twice on the same day. There was something about him, something mysterious, but also very kind and gentle. Maybe it was natural thing that she felt towards a man that had saved her, but Clara was fairly certain that she liked him. And she was really looking forward to seeing him again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the sweet, sweet comments! They always put a smile on my face :)

Clara was sitting on the stairs, already dressed in her nightgown and yet sleep was the last thing on her mind right now. Every time she closed her eyes she was reliving the attack in her mind and not even the thought about the Doctor could make her feel better. Then finally the front door opened and she could hear Amy and Rory talk.  
“Clara, why are you still up?” Amy asked when she rose from the stairs, “What happened to your hands?!”  
“Can we talk?” she asked and was surprised at how small her voice really sounded.  
Amy nodded gently and while Rory went upstairs, the women both headed into the back of the tailor's shop where Amy immediately set out to prepare them a cup of chamomile tea. Clara was grateful to have something warm to hold on to.  
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” her friend asked calmly as she pulled up a chair to sit next to her.  
She cleared her throat. “I never told you what I did during the war,” Clara confessed, “I worked for the government. A secret project. I don't really want to go into detail, but it was a good thing and it saved lives.”  
“Were you a spy?” Amy asked, almost gawking at her. Clara just shot her a look. She didn't want to talk about it and even though she had saved some, a lot of lives had been lost, and there was nothing she could have done about that except watch. That was just one more thing on the list of things she had yet to come to terms with.  
“The man that followed me the other day,” she paused, “He said that he knew me, wanted to know what I had done during the war and he followed me again today and-”  
“Oh my God, Clara, did he _hurt_ you?” Amy gasped and immediately reached out to take her hand, having a closer look at her wounds.  
“No,” Clara denied immediately, “He didn't have a chance. There was another man.”

And Clara told her everything about her encounters with the Doctor, from when he had scared one of her bullying students to the moment he had saved her from the stranger. How he had taken her home and cared for her wounds and also about his invitation to come into his practice tomorrow.  
“Awww,” Amy smiled as she took a sip from her tea, “He sounds really sweet. A true hero.”  
“He was,” Clara sighed and couldn't help but smile in return, “It's been a while since a man has treated me like that. You know, lending me his coat, looking after me.”  
Her friend giggled softly. “Are you smitten with him?”  
Clara looked up at her, a little shocked at Amy's bluntness.  
“You are, admit it. Just a little.”  
“I've only just met him,” she said thoughtfully, “And under really strange circumstances. I can't help but think that this might be a sort of _damsel in distress_ effect.”  
“Well, you'll know when you see him tomorrow.”  
Clara inhaled deeply. Tomorrow. Yeah, she was looking forward to that.

* * *

The Doctor paced his office nervously, wondering whether Clara Oswald would show up at all or whether he had made a mistake in not following her again today. His former colleague, James Mendon, was onto her and he wouldn't rest, the Doctor knew it, not after he had already taken an interest in Clara. He had to protect her from that weasel because he was fairly certain that, whatever she had done, it couldn't possibly be so bad as to attract Mendon's attention. Except if she had been a spy. But now that Clara knew of his existence, how was he to follow her to figure it out?  
There was a short knock on his door and a moment later his colleague Martha Jones stuck her head through the crack. “There's another patient here to see you. Said you asked her here.”  
The Doctor's face lit up. “Yes. Yes, I have. Send her in.”

Clara stepped through the door just moments later, wearing a shy smile on her face as she waved in his direction. “Hey,” she said softly.  
“Hey,” the Doctor smiled at her and gestured for her to sit down, “How are the hands today?”  
“Stings a bit but I'll live,” she explained as he turned around to ready the injection containing the vaccine, “What's that for anyway? Exactly?”  
“It protects you from tetanus, which is caused by bacteria that are found nearly everywhere. Dirt, dust, you get the picture. Are you scared of needles?” the Doctor cocked an eyebrow at her before he set out to bring the needle to her arm.  
“No, just curious,” she replied.  
“Well, with this you're not going to have to worry about that for the next ten years. It will just prickle for a second,” he told her as he lifted the sleeve of her dress. Clara flinched a little when the needle pierced her skin, but she endured it without further ado. “And all done.”  
Clara smiled up at him and strangely enough it warmed his heart to see her like that. “Thank you. And thank you for last night as well,” she said sincerely.  
“Don't mention it,” the Doctor looked away before she noticed how much he truly enjoyed her smile and gratitude.  
Instead he bent down to have another look at her hands, which seemed to be healing perfectly well and yet he was fully aware of how intently Clara was still watching him. Finally, when he couldn't bear it anymore, he looked back up at her.  
“Is something wrong?” he asked carefully.  
Clara's smile didn't falter. “Can I invite you for a drink?” she asked him, “To say thank you.”  
The Doctor cleared his throat. He really hadn't seen that coming. “I, uhm,” he spluttered, “Didn't you say thank you already? I thought I heard you say it.”  
“Not properly,” she went on, still smiling, “Please, let me make it up to you. It's just a drink.”  
“Clara, I-” he began and instantly wanted to clap his hand over his mouth. Her eyes widened in shock and it didn't take her long to rise from her chair to bring some distance between them.  
“How do you know my name?” she demanded to know, now looking frightened more than anything else.  
“I, uhm-” His mind went blank. He couldn't think of a single good excuse.  
“I never told you my name! How do you know it?!”  
“I heard one of your students say it,” he lied because that was the only thing the Doctor could come up with at this point. He could see that she didn't buy it.  
“No, they didn't,” Clara stared at him, her expression so full of confusion and fright, “Not yesterday. Unless you've been following me a lot longer than just that.”  
“Clara, I can explain,” the Doctor said gently and made a step towards her.  
However Clara stepped back. “No. Stay away from me. Stay far away from me!” she yelled and before he could stop her, Clara was out of the door.

Now he had truly messed it up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :) Oh, oh, what will the Doctor do now?

Clara stormed back into the tailor's shop and threw her bag on the nearest chair. There were no words to describe how angry and confused she felt right now – on top of being humiliated. She had liked the Doctor, she truly had. He had appeared to be such a nice and charming and good looking man, but as it turned out he was yet another creep. Clara wasn't sure she even wanted to know his reasons, but judging from the knowledge about her name and the fake police uniform she could tell that it wasn't a reason she would like. And she had asked him out! If Clara could take that sentence back, she would, because right now she felt utterly stupid for even considering that.  
“Clara, what's going on?” Amy asked her, looking up from her sewing machine.  
“The Doctor is a creep!” she shuddered and sank down on one of the chair.  
“A creep?”  
“Yes!” Clara exclaimed, “I went to his practice, he was being very nice again, so I asked him out.”  
Her friend grinned at her. “You cheeky girl,” she teased, “But how does that make him a creep?”  
Clara threw her a dark glance. She didn't need Amy's teasing right now and she wasn't in the mood to go into detail about how she had fancied the Doctor a little before today. “He didn't accept. Instead he called me by my name – which I had never mentioned to him.”  
“Oh,” Amy paused for a long moment, obviously considering her next words, “Did he say how he knew it?”  
Clara sighed audibly. “He said he overheard one of my students mention it,” she admitted, “But it can't have been yesterday, so the only explanation is that he's been hanging around for longer. I don't even care about his reasons, it's just creepy.”  
“Okay, I admit you're right with that one,” Amy said and suddenly there was a pause. When Clara looked at her friend she saw the questions on her face, the doubt and she knew what was about to follow. “Clara, what the hell have you done during the war that all these people are so interested in?”  
“I don't know if the Doctor is after me because of that. He could just be a regular creep.”  
“But the other definitely is,” Amy raised her eyebrows at her.  
She took a deep breath. “I promise I will tell you one day and I promise it's not a bad thing. I just hate talking about it and I hate that it still haunts me today. I would much rather erase it from my past.”  
Slowly her friend nodded.

“Listen,” Clara began, eager to finally change the subject to something more pleasant, “What are you and Rory doing on Saturday?”  
“I don't know. Do you have something specific in mind?” Amy asked back, eyeing her curiously.  
Clara cracked a smile. “It's my birthday on Saturday,” she admitted sheepishly, “And I'd like to go to a dance. And since I'm a bit short of a man right now-”  
“Of course we'll come,” Amy reassured her happily, “It's gonna be great.”  
“Thanks,” Clara replied with a smile. She could use every bit of distraction at the moment.

* * *

The Doctor didn't mind the freezing cold as he watched Clara Oswald talking to her friend through the shop window from his hiding spot, keeping an eye out for Mendon. However his former colleague didn't seem in the mood to follow her tonight. He was probably still tending to the wounds the Doctor had inflicted on him. The next time he tried to harm her, he wouldn't get away with just that, the Doctor vowed. Next time he would break his nose and legs. He had always known James Mendon was a pig and an arse, that he treated women without respect, but he hadn't thought him capable of rape. Well, not Clara. She was under his protection now, whether she wanted to be or not.  
The Doctor knew she didn't want it and that was where the problem lay. How could he protect her from the shadows when she knew his face now, when she could spot him any moment and when she was pretty mad at him? And damn right she was about that. How could he have messed up like this, a professional like him? Clara asking him out had thrown him off track because that was something he wouldn't in a million years have suspected to happen.  
Maybe it was a good thing she didn't talk to him right now because the alternative had been going out with her. The Doctor shouldn't get so close. And yet a tiny part of him had momentarily forgotten that he was working a case, a tiny part had wanted to say yes to a beautiful, lovely, young woman asking him out.

The Doctor shook his head and lit another cigarette as he made his way back to his own house. For tonight Clara was safe.

* * *

Saturday came swiftly and in the early evening Clara found herself in front of her mirror, checking her lipstick for the last time. She was wearing one of her best dresses, she had curled her hair and even though she didn't want to be vain, she though she looked fabulous tonight. Finally happy with her hair and make up, Clara nodded towards her own reflection and headed downstairs.

The dance was just a short walk from their house and Amy and Rory walked beside her on the pavement, equally eager for a night out.  
“The men are so going to be all over you tonight,” Amy teased her as they entered the room, “They're already staring at you.”  
“I sure hope so,” Clara grinned at her friend, “I feel like dancing.”  
“And that's about half the men not being all over you anymore,” Rory commented.  
Amy laughed at her husband. “Shut up. Not every man hates dancing as much as you do. And for the record, you _are_ going to dance tonight.”  
“Oh joy,” Rory rolled his eyes.  
While their friends were still bickering Clara had a long, good look around. The place was dark, crowded and cosy, music was playing and she could already feel her feet itch at the thought of dancing. And her friend had been right. A lot of men were already looking in her direction, so chances were she wouldn't struggle to find a dancing partner tonight. And who knew? Maybe even more than that.  
Then something caught her attention. Clara didn't know what had made her so observant and sensitive to all kinds of sounds and movements, but as she heard the door close across the room Clara turned around.  
She might have missed him had the draught from outside not lifted the cigarette smoke out of the air, but at this moment Clara spotted the Doctor enter the room behind them. She wasn't sure whether to be mad or scared, but when he spotted her looking at him there was this expression of terror on his face when he realized he had been caught.  
“Excuse me for a moment,” Clara told her friends and made her way through the crowd to approach the Doctor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments!!! Unfortunately my holidays are over, which means I can't do daily updates anymore. I'll still give my best. Forgive me for that. . . and the cliffhanger.

If the Doctor had looked scared before, he seemed utterly terrified now that she was approaching him. How dare he follow her even here? How dare he make it so obvious?  
“I told you to stay away from me!” Clara yelled once she had reached him, putting her arms akimbo in front of him to make herself taller and broader, yet when she looked at him Clara realized one thing before he had even said a single word: The Doctor wasn't here to harm her. That thought was ridiculous because if he wanted that there would have been other, better opportunities. She had let him into her home when she had been most vulnerable, she had been to his practice. No, the Doctor wasn't a danger to Clara, but he was still following her around and she wouldn't tolerate that. Not anymore.  
“I'm sorry,” the Doctor mumbled and when he looked at her she almost believed him, “I don't mean you any harm.”  
“No, you're just a creep. A nice one, maybe, but a creep nonetheless,” Clara spat, “How do you know my name? The truth!”  
The Doctor looked at her for a long moment and at first didn't say anything at all. Then he took a deep breath before he spoke.  
“I noticed you,” he admitted, “I know, I should've said something before, but then I noticed something else as well. The man that followed you.”  
Clara frowned at him and now crossed her arms in front of her chest, listening intently. He had noticed her? Noticed how?  
“At first I thought it was a coincidence and then I realized he was following you wherever you went. I wanted to say something, but didn't know how. He's a police man. It could have been part of an investigation or something, I didn't want to get in the middle of that.”  
The Doctor looked a little uncomfortable and then Clara thought of one more thing he hadn't explained yet.  
“You wore a police uniform, too, when we met. Care to explain?” she asked harshly.  
“I, uhm,” the Doctor awkwardly cleared his throat, “I kind of borrowed that. Thought it might make an impression on him in case he. . . he wasn't following you for the purpose of an investigation.”  
“Which it did,” Clara admitted, her voice low. “It also made an impression on Karl. He's been a model pupil ever since.”  
A smile crossed over the Doctor's face when she mentioned it, but Clara didn't want to see that right now. She was close to forgiving the Doctor already and the last thing she needed was him being sweet. He was a stalker and a creep.  
“I appreciate you saving me from him,” she said instead, trying to keep her voice free of any emotion, “I really do. And also the thing with Karl. But still you weren't honest with me and the fact that you followed me around for God knows how long is really, really strange.”  
“I know and I'm sorry,” the Doctor said hastily, “But I don't think the man that attacked you has given up and I don't want anything to happen to you.”  
“That is not your concern, Doctor!” Clara raised her voice, “You don't know me and I don't know you! And I can take care of myself!”  
“Clara-”  
“No,” she shook her head even though she knew the Doctor had meant well, even though a part of her wanted to forgive him and ask him once more whether he would like to have a drink with her. Clara needed to remind herself that, no matter how honourable his intentions, she shouldn't forgive him for that. “I need you to leave, Doctor.”  
He frowned at her. “This is a public place.”  
Clara groaned. “Fine, then stay. But stay away from me!”

Clara raised her index finger in a warning gesture before she turned around and left him standing right there by the door. She found Amy and Rory again soon enough, chatted and had a drink with them, pretending her conversation with the Doctor hadn't happened at all. He could go to hell. Except that he didn't. Clara spotted him a short while later at a table in a corner, smoking a cigarette and letting his gaze wander across the room and a part of her hated that he was still there, distracting her with his presence.  
“Would you like to dance?” a male voice tore her out of her thoughts and when Clara turned around she was facing a young man who gave her a sincere smile. He looked nice, Clara could tell that much. Tall. Lean. Neat suit.  
Clara smiled at him in return. “I'd love to.”

The man led her onto the dance floor and laid his arm around her waist when the next song started and Clara decided to ignore the Doctor from now on. If he was so eager to watch her, he could just as well watch her have some fun.  
“What's your name?” Clara asked him curiously.  
“Will. And yours?”  
“I'm Clara,” she said. Well, at least he didn't know her name already. It was a start. “What do you do for a living, Will?”  
He smiled. “You're a curious one, aren't you? I used to be in the military. It was tough after the war, finding something, but eventually I ended up with the police. Not really a dream job, but pays the bills.”  
“There are worse jobs,” she shrugged before Will twirled her around.  
“How about you? No, wait, let me guess,” he seemed to be considering something, “You must surely be a professional dancer. You're too good to be an amateur. What do you do? Ballet?”  
Clara chuckled. “No. Not a dancer.”  
“But you're so elegant,” Will complimented her, “Fashion design?”  
Clara shook her head, still smiling as they moved over the dance floor. Oh, she had missed the flattery of a nice man. “I'm a teacher.”  
“Really?” Will gasped, “I wouldn't have guessed. I really hope your students appreciate what a beautiful teacher they have.”  
“I really hope they don't,” she laughed in response, “I don't want a bunch of ten-year-olds to have a crush on me.”  
“How about one 30-year-old?” he asked, still smiling when the song ended. Clara didn't know what to reply to his bluntness, even though she didn't mind it at all. “Hey, let me buy you a drink, okay?”

Clara nodded and let Will lead her to the bar. While Clara tried to find a comfortable position to sit on the high bar stool he ordered for both of them, claiming that she would love the drink he had chosen. When the waiter was busy preparing their drinks, Clara let her gaze wander around the room, but the spot the Doctor had previously occupied was empty now. A tiny part of her was a little disappointed, but Clara quickly told herself that it was for the better, that she wanted him to stay away. Then Will handed her a large glass and raised his own.  
“To the most beautiful woman in this room,” he smiled and took a gulp.  
Clara was sure that by now she was blushing because of his rather obvious flirting, but it stroked her ego a little to well to tell him to stop now. She sipped her drink, but she wasn't quite sure she was ready to say that she loved it. Whatever the was, the idea of it had surely been nice, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth that ruined the entire cocktail. What was that? Grapefruit? But Clara knew that Will had meant well and so she decided to drink it without complaining. She would simply choose the next one.  
“So, Clara, what do you teach?”  
Clara looked up from her drink. She hadn't even noticed how long she had been staring at the contents of her glass, trying to determine whether there was actually grapefruit in there or not. She blinked at Will who had obviously asked a question, but she hadn't heard it.  
“Sorry?”  
He gave her a kind smile. “I asked what it is that you're teaching.”  
“English,” she replied, “I teach English.”  
“You don't like the drink I chose, do you?” Will bit down on his lip.  
“Oh, no, it's good,” Clara quickly took another sip to show that it was fine, but it tasted even stranger now. And it seemed quite strong, too. Her head was beginning to feel fuzzy already. She should probably stick to only one.  
“I can order something else if you want,” Will suggested.  
Clara forced a smile. “No, really, it's fine,” she said and drank.  
She was only vaguely aware that Will continued to talk. Had someone turned up the music? It seemed that that was all she could hear. Too loud, too confusing.  
Clara had another sip of the cocktail when suddenly her stomach began to revolt at the taste of it. She took a deep breath and clasped her arm around her belly.  
“Clara? Are you okay?”  
When she looked up at him Clara thought she would faint any moment now. The room around her was spinning wildly. Where were Amy and Rory? She had to find them now and go home, but the entire world was turning around her. Panic started to rise up inside her when Clara realized she couldn't even focus on Will's face.  
“I can take you home if you're unwell,” Will offered somewhere in the distance. The music was still too loud to hear him properly and the vertigo was getting worse and worse.  
“That won't be necessary, I think.” Was that the Doctor? No, she was imagining things now. And the nausea was growing stronger, Clara could feel it. What the hell was happening to her?

Clara made an effort to rise from her chair. She had to leave immediately or she would be sick. Yet when she tried to put her feet on the ground she felt as if there was nothing there at all and her legs simply gave way under her. Clara tumbled towards the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments, guys! You are the best! And now let's see if the Doctor gets to Clara in time:

The Doctor caught her at the last moment before she could fall and held on to her while Clara fought to regain her balance.  
“It's okay, Clara. It's me. Nothing to worry about,” he told her calmly, “Just hold on to me.”  
Clara blinked a couple of time, her gaze unfocused. “Doctor?”  
With Clara still in his arms the Doctor reached for the glass from which she had been drinking and sniffed its content. Bitter. Just like he had thought. Furiously he turned around to face the young man Clara had been talking to and who was still sitting on his bar stool as if nothing had happened at all.  
“You can tell your boss that you've failed,” he growled.  
The man gave a nervous laugh. “My what?”  
“The man who hired you to do this!” the Doctor spat angrily, “Tell him to stay away. Clara Oswald is under my protection.”  
“Doctor, I'm sick,” Clara wheezed. She was limp in his arms and swallowing hard to keep it down.  
“Come on, let's get you some fresh air,” the Doctor told her and when Clara nodded, he helped her outside, steadying her with his grip.

However, as soon as they were out of the door, Clara let go and staggered away from him. Holding on to the wall now, she bent forward and emptied the contents of her stomach on the pavement. The Doctor walked up to her once more and laid his arm around her, stroking the hair out of her face while she was still coughing. She was shivering in his arms.  
“Yeah, that's it. Out with the poison,” he told her calmly when she wiped her mouth. Eventually she turned back around to look at him. “Don't worry. You'll be fine.”  
Clara made an effort to walk away, but obviously realized that she was too unsteady on her feet to make it home on her own and didn't protest when the Doctor reached out to hold her.  
“What was that?” Clara asked him, slurring her words.  
“It's a drug they used to experiment on spies during the war, to make them a little more cooperative and willing to talk. Effects are a lot like alcohol, but it made most people sick, so they stopped using it. You'll be fine after you've slept, it will have worn off by morning,” he explained to her as they walked in the direction of her home.  
“I feel woozy,” she admitted after a while, leaning her head against him.  
“That's okay. That's normal,” the Doctor comforted her, “It'll all be over by morning.”  
“Mh,” she muttered in response.  
When Clara stopped talking and the Doctor was left with only the thoughts in his head, he realized for the first time just how angry he really was. It seemed Mendon would stop at nothing to get to Clara, even dragging some of his colleagues into this mess to drug her. The Doctor didn't have the slightest doubt that the young man would have taken her anywhere except her home for interrogation – and probably worse. And all this just because of the woman in his arms, who couldn't appear any more ordinary. He had to protect her, the Doctor knew that much. Even Clara probably didn't know just how much danger she was in.

By the time they had arrived at her house Clara had grown increasingly tired – and also giggly for some reason he couldn't quite understand. Probably the effects of the drug. However she seemed to be quite enjoying their slow walk home.  
“Do you have your key?” the Doctor asked her.  
“You saved me,” she slurred, grinning at him, “Again.”  
“You can thank me later. I'm gonna need your key,” he told her, trying very hard to look at her even though it seemed almost impossible with the way she was staring at him.  
“In my pocket,” Clara replied and leaned back against the door.  
“Which one?” the Doctor asked a little too impatiently. He wanted to get out of this cold and he needed to get Clara out of this cold as well before she really caught an illness.  
She giggled in reply, looking right at him. “Breast pocket.”  
The Doctor took a deep breath. He had feared as much. “Clara, I can't reach into your breast pocket and I'm pretty sure that under normal circumstances you would kill any man that tried,” he told her calmly, extending his hand, “Please, take it out and give it to me.”  
Finally Clara complied and reached into her pocket, handing over her key just moments later.

The Doctor wasn't quite sure how long it took them but eventually they had reached the right floor but before he could unlock the door to her apartment as well, he felt her weight sink against his chest.  
“Clara? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice sounding worried.  
Then she looked up at him again, grinning, and suddenly he became aware of just how her hands were feeling up his chest. “You said I could thank you later,” she grinned, still struggling to get the words out, “I want to thank you.”  
Before the Doctor could react, Clara had brought her lips to his neck and the feeling of her touch shot straight through his entire body, making his heart beat just a little bit faster. Gently the Doctor pushed her away once he realized just what she was doing.  
“Clara, you-” he didn't have time to finish his sentence when suddenly their lips touched in a kiss and the Doctor took a moment, a small, short, tiny moment to take in just how warm her mouth felt on his own, how soft her lips were, how long it had been since his last kiss when he finally came back to his senses. Clara wasn't in her right mind, he couldn't possibly give in to her kiss, now matter how good it felt.  
The Doctor gathered up all his strength and pulled away, keeping Clara at arm's length while he looked at her. Her eyes were glazed and a little red. He couldn't possibly take advantage of her.  
“Just sleep and get well again, that is thanks enough,” he told her as he turned around to unlock the last door.  
When Clara leaned against the frame and didn't budge to actually enter, the Doctor closed his arms around her once more and lifted her up, carrying her the rest of the way until he could safely lower her on her bed.  
She uttered a sound once her head hit the pillow and Clara immediately closed her eyes while the Doctor busied himself with taking her shoes off.  
“Just sleep,” he told her, “I promise you'll be as good as new in the morning.”  
“Mh-mh,” she murmured in response when the Doctor covered her with her duvet and an additional blanket.  
It was freezing in here, the cold air still coming in through the crack in the window. That should really be taken care of.  
“You need to have a chat with your landlord. The cold is unacceptable,” he said but there was no reply. Clara had already fallen asleep. 

The Doctor rose from her bed and was already on his way out when he changed his mind about leaving. Clara was utterly vulnerable right now, her friends weren't home yet. If someone came back for her, if Mendon decided to pay her a visit, there was nothing anyone could do about that.  
So the Doctor reached for the last remaining blanket, unfortunately a very thin one, and retreated to the sofa that took a spot in the middle of the room. He would stay here tonight and watch over her, making sure that no one would harm her.


	11. Chapter 11

Her head was pounding, a dull, throbbing ache just behind her eyes. That was the first thing Clara noticed when she started waking from her sleep. The second was her stomach and that hint of nausea that still seemed to remain from last night. Clara groaned and turned around in bed, only now realising that she was still in her evening dress under the duvet and blanket and that the belt digging into her waist didn't actually aid to make her stomach feel any better. Oh God, she hadn't had that much to drink, had she? No, there had only been one cocktail she remembered.  
Clara sat up instantly, her stomach turning when she moved. Something in her drink. The man whose name she had forgotten. And, of course, the Doctor. He had taken her home, hadn’t he? He had helped her out of the pub and… oh God, she had kissed him. She had thrown up right in front of him and then she had kissed him. What on earth had been in that drink to make her act like that? And there had also been the moment she had asked the Doctor to reach into her breast pocket. The nausea over what she had done got a little worse as last night's memory became cleared. Luckily Clara had told the Doctor to leave her alone so she would never have to look at him again. She couldn't face him, not after that disaster.

With her thoughts still circling around the previous night, putting the pieces of her embarrassment back together, Clara climbed out of bed, threw the blanket around her shoulders for warmth, and made her way towards the kitchen. She needed a cup of tea to settle her stomach, but on her way she noticed something and stopped dead in her tracks. There was something, no, _someone_ on her sofa. Asleep under the thin blanket and just seeing it made Clara shiver. Carefully she stepped closer and peered over the backrest, spotting a head with a wild mass of silver curls. Damn!  
She instantly stepped back again, her heart pounding so hard that she could still feel it in her throat and for a moment Clara thought she would be sick again. The Doctor was still here. In her flat. Oh dear, she wasn’t prepared for that. What on earth would she say to him after making a complete fool of herself last night? That wasn’t right at all, he shouldn’t be here. But he was.  
While Clara was still pondering how to react, the Doctor was beginning to stir in his sleep and Clara racked her brain for a way out of this, but the only chance she saw was fleeing downstairs. Then he turned around, eyes already open, and looked straight at her.  
It took him a moment for the confusion to settle, but eventually he spoke. "Good morning.“  
Clara could do nothing but stare at him in response, her feet frozen on the spot. She was probably blushing already.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked her, his voice still a little husky from sleep. Still Clara couldn’t say anything at all. What was he still doing here? Why did he stay? “Well, I’m cold, I can tell you that much.”  
Clara swallowed hard, now noticing that her throat felt incredibly dry and that she was thirsty. “I was gonna make tea,” she said quietly, the only thing she could think of, “Would you like some to warm you up?”  
The Doctor nodded in response and Clara walked the last few steps towards her kitchen counter, filling the kettle with water and setting it down on the stove.  
“You really should do something about the window,” he repeated and it rang a faint bell in her memory. Hadn't he said that last night?

Clara shot around and finally glared at him, her anger over him inviting himself into her flat now stronger than her embarrassment. “Why did you stay on my couch if you hate how cold it is in here?” she asked him bluntly.  
He frowned at her. “To make sure you're okay. To make sure that guy from the bar or the man that followed you don't come by to finish what they started.”  
“And who will make sure that you don't try something funny?!” Clara spat back.  
“The only person who actually tried something funny was you,” the Doctor snorted and Clara instantly felt the heat rise into her cheeks.  
She swiftly lowered her gaze. “Sorry. I didn't mean to kiss you.”  
Clara heard as the Doctor inhaled sharply. “It's fine. You weren't exactly yourself. The drug they put in your drink makes people do all sorts of things. You were lucky it made you sick instantly, otherwise I would have had to carry you home.”  
“Is it dangerous? I mean, will there be other effects?” Clara found herself asking. Maybe there were other bad things still to come.  
He shook his head. “No, you'll be fine. I'm assuming you have a headache though?”  
“You bet,” Clara replied when the whistling of the kettle interrupted her. She turned towards the counter and poured the boiling water into the mugs before she handed one of them to the Doctor.  
“Thanks,” he said, clasping his hands around the hot beverage, “You should drink lots of water today and eat something. By tomorrow the headache and nausea will be gone.”  
Carefully Clara sat down on the other end of the sofa, still keeping a distance to him. The Doctor was a strange man, maybe the strangest she had met in her life, but he had saved her twice now and Clara still didn't know why.  
“Why are you helping me?”  
The Doctor looked up at her, frowning again. “Why shouldn't I?”  
Clara shrugged. “You don't know me,” she argued.  
“Well,” he hesitated for a moment, “You needed a bit of help. I was there.”  
“I am not some damsel in distress,” Clara replied, her voice a little angry, “I can take care of myself. . . well, usually. I appreciate that you were there for me, but that's not an invitation for you to sleep on my sofa.”  
The Doctor started to laugh. “Are you mad that I stayed?”  
“Yes. . . No. I don't know,” she blew the air out between her lips. She mainly felt confusion over his presence. “I just find it strange that a lot of men seem to be following me around lately, you being one of them. And how did you know what exactly they put in my drink?”  
The Doctor looked at her intently, obviously considering his response. “I was a doctor during the first war, it was already in use back then. I recognized the smell.”  
“Fine,” Clara replied and took a sip from her tea, if only to have something else to do for a moment. The Doctor had an answer to every question, but was it the truth? The last couple of days had made Clara so wary that she didn't seem to trust anyone so easily. She needed some time to think.  
“I'd like to go back to sleep,” she told him after a moment, looking up at him, “Thank you for everything you've done for me, but you better go now.”  
The Doctor nodded gravely and rose from his seat and when she saw the defeat in his eyes, Clara remembered something. Last night she had been sure the Doctor wouldn't hurt her and what had happened afterwards only seemed proof of that. He had helped her out once more even though she had been kind of rude to him, he had refused to take advantage of her when Clara had offered herself very plainly and he had stayed on her couch in the freezing cold just to make sure she was okay. Strange he might be, but he was also a good guy, that much was obvious.  
“I'll see you around, I guess?” Clara asked him and saw a smile spread over his lips when the realisation was beginning to dawn on him.  
“See you around,” he replied kindly, “Go back to sleep. You need it.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments, guys! Yes, Clara is wary of him and she has every right to be. How could he possibly warm her heart?

The Doctor knew it wasn’t going according to plan. Clara was aware of his existence and to save his own skin he had told her one lie after the other only to be able to stay close to her. And close he had gotten. He knew that last night he should have stopped Clara from kissing him before it had happened because deep down a part of him had liked the touch of her lips on his own and by now he could clearly see why Danny was so desperate to get his fiancé back. Clara was smart, headstrong and pretty and she had this sweetness about her that just drew him in, which was why he had helped her out with her pupils in the first place. He liked her and yet he was still determined to find out what exactly it was that she had done to attract Mendon’s attention. That man wouldn’t give up easily, so the Doctor had to stick around, no matter what Clara said. This case had grown quickly and now he was personally involved, something that shouldn't have happened. But it had and now the Doctor had to deal with the consequences. 

Something that hadn’t crossed his mind when he had decided to stay last night was the fact that he was now leaving her flat on a Sunday morning and the thing he had feared promptly happened. He had just gone down one flight of stairs when the Doctor ran straight into Clara’s friend, who stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him.  
“Who are you?” her Scottish accent was audible in her voice.  
“I, uhm,” he hesitated, “I’m the Doctor.”  
A flicker of recognition crossed over Amy’s face and her features softened instantly. “Ohhhh, you were the man that helped Clara out the other night,” she realized, “Why aren’t you staying for breakfast?”  
“Clara, she, uhm, she’s not feeling so well. She went back to sleep.”  
“Oh, well, okay. I’ll check on her later then.”  
The Doctor hesitated for a moment but then figured it was better to mention it. He couldn’t be around Clara at all times. “Keep an eye on her, will you?” the Doctor asked, “I think she can be a bit stubborn at times.”  
Amy frowned, but said nothing in reply.  
“Please,” the Doctor added, “I don't want her to get into any more trouble.”  
“You care about her, don't you?” her friend asked him, a bluntness in her voice that caught him a little off guard, “You're not one more stalking creep, right? You do like her?”  
The Doctor wasn't quite sure what to reply except with the truth. “Strangely, I do,” he said, a light smile on his lips.  
“I think she likes you, too,” Amy told him, “But you're right. Clara is stubborn.”

* * *

That wasn't good. That was anything but good. He hadn't meant to like her, Clara was just another case, but he did and if her friend was right and she liked him back, it couldn't end well. And yet he needed to find out what her secret was, what it was that she was hiding from everyone, because whatever it was, it was putting her in danger.  
While the Doctor made his way back home he made a list in his head, leading an endless debate with himself about what he should do. He could call Danny and tell him about Clara, warn them both about Mendon and move on with his life – but then he would never know and he would never see Clara again and somehow the Doctor didn't like the thought of that at all.  
However when he had turned around the corner, he found a surprise waiting for him on his doorstep.  
“I told you I would call you,” the Doctor groaned in annoyance when he was still a few steps away from him.  
“I was in the neighbourhood. Just thought I’d ask if there were any news of Edith,” Danny granted him a weak smile.  
The Doctor had made up his mind only minutes ago and for a brief moment he considered changing it back.  
“I've had other cases to deal with, but I'm looking into it and I will find out what happened to your fiancé, unless you steal any more of my time,” the Doctor replied sharply as he drew out his key and stuck it into the lock.  
“You seem surer about that now than you did last time,” Danny's voice was wary and the Doctor knew he had every right to distrust him. Still, it bothered him a little.  
He shot around, glaring at Danny. “Well, I'm a really good detective.”  
The soldier took a step back, but his eyes never left him. “Please,” he said after a moment, “I need to know, and if she is still alive, I need to see her again.”  
Slowly the Doctor nodded. “I'll give you a call,” he said quickly and stepped inside his house, closing the door behind him before Danny Pink could say anything else.  
Once he was alone the Doctor took a deep breath. When the soldier had first appeared in his office the Doctor wouldn't have thought what sort of trouble he would bring with him.

* * *

“Hey, feeling better?” Amy stuck her head through the crack in the door and Clara looked up from her book. She had spent the last two hours in bed, not really sleeping, so she had prepared herself another cup of tea and curled up in bed with a good book. The headache had faded almost completely, but her stomach still turned over at the mere thought of food.  
“How did you know I wasn't feeling well?” Clara asked her friend.  
Amy gave a shrug as she stepped inside. “Met the Doctor on his way out,” suddenly Amy broke off and shivered, “Ugh, it's freezing in here.”  
Her friend approached her bed and sat down at the end while Clara put her book away.  
“Did he say anything to you?”  
Amy's lips curled into a smile. “You still like him, don't you? I mean, you were dancing with this handsome, young man last night and the next thing I see is the Doctor leaving your flat in the morning. What the hell happened and why were you gone last night all of a sudden?”  
Clara let out a sigh and looked at her friend for a long moment, wondering how to tell her about the recent events.  
“That _handsome, young man_ put something in my drink,” Clara said angrily and she watched as her friend's eyes widened in horror, “Don't worry, nothing happened. The Doctor was there, he helped me out. Again. Brought me home and stayed on the couch to make sure I was okay.”  
“Clara-”  
“I don't want to talk about it,” she replied sternly, “In fact, I am done with all of that! They have no idea what I'm capable of and the next man who tries to attack me will get what he deserves! I am not some fragile girl who needs protecting!”  
Amy raised her eyebrows at her. “But what about the Doctor?”  
“What about him?”  
“I think he wouldn't mind protecting you. And it's not a bad thing to have someone watch over you, someone who really cares. And that's what you want, right? Someone who cares about you?” Amy asked, her voice soft, and she wasn't wrong. Clara didn't need a man, but that didn't mean she didn't want one in her life.  
And the Doctor was the first man since Danny that had really caught her attention.  
“Maybe,” Clara replied carefully. She liked him, but she still wasn't sure what to think of him.


	13. Chapter 13

Once again it was completely dark as Clara made her way home after school and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. The steps had been following her for a while now and somehow she knew that it wasn't the Doctor. Clara inhaled deeply and turned around the corner, heading away from the main street and into a small alley behind a row of houses, her favourite shortcut, and clutched the brass knuckles more tightly in her hand. Tonight he wouldn't get away with it, tonight she would fight back and show him exactly who he was dealing with.  
Then suddenly the steps came to a halt behind her. Clara stopped and waited.  
“You still haven't answered my question, Miss Oswald,” the man said, “Or should I call you Miss Winter?”  
Clara sighed and turned around to face him, staring straight into the sneering grimace of the man that had tried to rape her before. She had to be brave now, or he would never leave her alone.  
“Why are you so interested in me?” she asked him bluntly, “I didn't think a simple school teacher would be an interesting subject for the police.”  
The man snorted and stepped closer. But he wasn't close enough yet. “You and I both know you're not just a simple school teacher. And your protector isn't here tonight. I've got you all to myself.”  
“I don't need a man to protect me,” she challenged him and he did exactly what she had thought he would do. He laughed.  
Clara used the moment of his distraction to throw her first punch and she heard a cracking sound of broken bones when she hit him right across the face.  
“Ow! Fuck!” he howled and stumbled away from her, “Fucking bitch!”  
She didn't wait for him to regain his balance, the adrenaline now pumping through her veins, giving her the strength she needed when she landed her second blow into his stomach and rammed her knee right between his legs.  
The man sank to the ground, groaning in pain while the blood came flowing from his broken nose. She had hit him worse than the Doctor.  
“You will leave me alone,” she hissed at him, “I have killed a man before and if you attack me one more time I will not hesitate to do it again. Do you understand me?”  
He only replied with whimpering.  
“From now on I will be prepared. You will never touch me ever again,” Clara said sharply and turned around, leaving him on the street and heading towards her home.

Clara took what seemed her first breath since the encounter when she had turned around the corner and now she was speeding up her pace, eager to get home as the tears were starting to flow down her cheeks. She was shaking and she was scared, but she had been brave and for now the man wouldn't follow her again.  
She almost ran the rest of the way, only to find that there was someone waiting by her doorstep. Clara stopped abruptly and wiped the tears from her face when she recognized the Doctor.  
“What are you doing here?” she asked him and slid the brass knuckles into the pocket of her coat before he noticed them. Luckily it was too dark for him to see just how agitated she still was and that she had been crying.  
He raised his eyebrows at her, giving her a questioning look. “You said _see you around_.”  
Clara snorted. “And you took that as an invitation to stop by any time you like?”  
The Doctor hesitated for a moment, but eventually he lifted the object he was holding in his right hand. “I brought my toolbox. Came to fix your window.”  
Clara considered it for a moment. Amy had been so right in everything she had said. She wanted someone in her life, someone who cared about her and the Doctor did. He had protected her even though she had pushed him away, and he had come back to help her out yet again. Why was she still trying so hard to find a flaw in that when he was being nothing but nice to her?  
“Under one condition,” she said and he looked at her expectantly, “You'll stay for dinner.”  
Finally his face lit up. “I think I can accept that condition,” he replied with a soft smile.

When Clara led him upstairs she was grateful that neither Amy nor Rory seemed to be home at the moment. She wasn't quite ready to deal with their questions yet, not until she had figured out her own thoughts about the matter. Once inside, the Doctor immediately set out to work on her window frame, trying to sand down the wood to make it fit again and Clara decided to start making dinner. She didn't have a lot of food stored away. With the rationing still being somewhat strict for a single woman living on her own, she had enough to get by, but she could spare the ingredients for a nice soup they could both enjoy together.  
“Why are you doing this?” Clara found herself asking him after a while.  
“Because I saved you from that thug the other night, so it would be a waste if you died of pneumonia shortly after,” the Doctor replied simply and continued his work.  
Clara turned around, watching him intently for a moment. “That's not what I meant. Why are you helping me at all?”  
The Doctor stopped to look at her, rolling his eyes. “I already told you. Because you seem like you need a bit a help. Clara, what is the matter with you that you can't even accept the smallest form of kindness?”  
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Because in my experience kindness seldom comes without a price. People always expect something in return.”  
“Fine then,” the Doctor scoffed, “In return I'd like you to be a little nicer and more trusting.”  
“Do I have reason to trust you?”  
“Do you have reason not to?”  
Once more they had arrived at a stale mate, Clara realized, and she couldn't actually think of any reason not to trust him, not after everything he had done for her. And she did like him.  
“Earn it,” she told him eventually.  
Again he threw her a questioning glance.  
“Earn my trust. Take me out to the dance next weekend,” Clara challenged him, not really knowing why she was doing this. Maybe she wanted to test him, test herself.  
The Doctor swallowed hard. “What has that do to with anything?”  
Clara simply shrugged. “Will you do it or not?”  
“Would it make you happy?”  
“Yeah,” she granted him a smile, “Yeah, it would.”  
“Okay,” he replied softly, “Then I'll do it.”

When he turned back towards her window frame to continue his work, Clara thought it would be best if she did the same with their dinner. They didn't say anything for a long while and somehow it wasn't even bothering her. She would be going out to a dance with the Doctor. An actual dance. And somehow Clara was hardly able to hold back from smiling. Damn Amy, she always had to be right. She really did like him in a way.  
“There,” the Doctor eventually spoke again, “Your window is closing properly now.”  
“And I'm done with the soup. Hungry?”  
When the Doctor nodded, they took a seat on opposite ends of her small kitchen table and while Clara was already starting to eat, the Doctor was still inspecting his food.  
“Something wrong?”  
“No, it's not that,” he set the spoon down and looked up at her, “Is there anything else I could do for you? To make you happy? Except the dance thing.”  
Clara couldn't help but giggle. “What do you mean? You fixed my window. You just earned yourself some years' worth of gratitude for that.”  
Still the Doctor didn't look away and something told her he wouldn't unless she named something that would make her happy.  
“You're going to laugh,” she told him eventually, “But I'd love some chocolate. Not the kind you get for your coupons here, but the real stuff.”  
“The real stuff,” the Doctor repeated slowly, a smile forming in the corners of his lips.  
“Don't laugh,” Clara scolded him, “And eat your soup.”  
He chuckled in reply. “Yes, boss.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comment *-*

The Doctor knew he was probably making a mistake in going out with Clara. A part of him just knew that it wasn't right, but how could he explain it to her without giving away too much about him? Somehow this dance felt like a date and it was wrong because Clara was on the lookout for a man when her fiancé was still very much alive and the Doctor was the private detective Danny Pink had hired to find her. No, it was wrong no matter how he put it. And yet he had said yes, so he would have to go through with it if he didn't want to disappoint her. That was really the last thing he wanted to do because Clara had already been through too much. The Doctor smiled when he thought about the look that would be on her face when he handed her the chocolate he already managed to buy from one of his contacts. _The real stuff_ even. There was only one thing on his list still left to do.

He stormed into the police station, determined to end the conversation about Clara once and for all. Mendon would leave her alone or the Doctor would promise to rain hell down upon him until there was nothing left standing in his entire life. He knew Mendon, he knew about everything he had done and he wouldn't hesitate to use this information to ruin his career.  
“You and I need to have a little-” the Doctor broke off when he stepped inside Mendon's office and saw his face, “-chat.”  
His eye was properly black, there were cuts all over his face and his nose was the colour of purple and positively crooked under the small plaster. Someone had given him a very thorough beating and the Doctor was about to ask for their name to send them flowers as a thank you.  
“Get out of my office,” he growled at the Doctor.  
The Doctor snorted in reply. “Unlikely,” he chuckled, “Wow, someone clearly doesn't like you very much. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not. You probably deserved that.”  
“You wanna know who did this?” Mendon asked angrily and rose from his chair, “Your little girlfriend did!”  
The Doctor couldn't do anything but frown at him. The man was obviously lying. A small woman like Clara would never be able to do that kind of damage to a man of Mendon's size and strength. He was so shocked he even went on to ignore the girlfriend remark.  
“Impossible,” he breathed in reply.  
“Oh no, it is possible. Very possible. And the truth,” he went on, “I followed her on Monday and she came at me with brass knuckles, almost took my eye out!”  
“Well, in her case you absolutely deserved it,” he said dryly.  
“Doctor,” Mendon stepped closer, his voice now careful rather than angry, “That woman killed a man. She confessed it to me after she was done beating me up and I don't have the slightest doubt that it is the truth. She is a murderer.”  
Clara? A murderer? It seemed utterly ridiculous. The Doctor was about to open his mouth and deny everything, but Mendon was quicker.  
“She confessed it,” he repeated, “Are you still going to protect her after this?”  
“Yes,” the Doctor replied sharply without even thinking about it, “Yes, I will protect her. Clara is not a bad person, I know it. I will find out what happened during the war and I cannot let you harm her. She is part of a case.”  
“She is part of an investigation,” Mendon countered.  
The Doctor took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say to his old colleague. He needed Clara to be safe, at any cost. “You will not harm her,” he hissed, “Remember that I know everything you did during the war and if anything should happen to Clara I will not hesitate to talk about it. I don't care that I'd be implementing myself, but you will not touch Clara.”  
Mendon only scoffed at the Doctor's threat. “Fine, I'll give you some time. Find out about her past, fuck her, I don't care what you actually want with that woman but one day my patience will be at an end. And I still need to get back at her for this.”  
He pointed at his face and the Doctor could do nothing but nod. That was all he was going to get for now and he knew it, but at least he had bought himself some time.

* * *

“How do I look?”  
“Clara, for the last time,” Amy chuckled, “You look wonderful! When will you start believing me?”  
Clara sighed as she checked her reflection in the mirror once more and her friend was probably right. She had chosen a navy checked dress with a long skirt and slightly puffy sleeves along with a belt that was maybe a little too tight around her waist, but definitely showed off her figure. The Doctor would like it, wouldn't he? Her hair curly and in place, as was her make up, subtle but still visible. She breathed in as deeply as her belt allowed it.  
“I'm nervous,” Clara confessed when she turned around to look at her friend, “I shouldn't be, but I am.”  
Her friend granted her a kind smile. “You have every right to be nervous. This is your first date since Danny,” she told her when suddenly a grin spread across her face, “And you're going out with a doctor. Well done.”  
“I'm not even sure this really counts as a date. I kinda pushed him into it,” Clara went on to argue, nervously shuffling her feet, “What if he doesn't even wanna go out with me?”  
“Is he blind?” Amy raised her eyebrows.  
“No?”  
“Then he wants to go out with you, at least he will want to after he's seen you in that dress.”  
Finally Clara cracked a smile and sank down on the sofa next to her friend, who immediately reached out to hold her hand and Clara was more than grateful for that gesture.  
“I like him,” Clara admitted, “At least I think I do. The way we met wasn't exactly ideal and it's really confusing, but I kissed him the other night and I don't think that was _just_ the effects of whatever was in my drink. I want to kiss him again and see how it feels, how I feel about it.”  
It really was strange, the way the Doctor just popped in and out of her life, always coming to her rescue, always being nice. So Clara had spent the last couple of days thinking about it and she had come to the conclusion that she wanted to try kissing him again to determine what exactly she was feeling for him. If he let her.  
“Don't worry about it,” Amy told her, “Just go out and have fun. After all, you have nothing to worry about with your protector at your side.”  
Clara smiled. “Don't call him that.”  
“Well, whatever you call him, he's your date tonight and I'm sure it will be amazing,” Amy squeezed her hand in her own before she let go and rose from her seat, “And he should be here any moment.”  
As if on cue the door bell rang and Clara inhaled deeply. Her date was here.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments :) Now, you wanted a date? I'll give you a date!

The Doctor took a deep breath before ringing the door bell, knowing that this was his last chance to turn around and make the sensible decision not to go out with Clara. But he also knew that he wouldn't change his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have come here, dressed in a good suit and bringing her the chocolate Clara had wanted. And when he had ever been the type to make sensible decisions? He rung the bell.  
A few moments later Clara opened the door and greeted him with a shy, almost hesitant smile. Then he noticed the rest of her and his heart suddenly skipped a beat. She was looking so lovely tonight that the Doctor didn't have the slightest doubt that they would indeed be going out on a date. They were going out on a date when he had been hired by her fiancé to find her. Not good. Not good at all.  
“Hi,” her voice was almost a whisper.  
“Hey,” the Doctor replied reluctantly and instantly searched his brain for something to add to that. “You, erm, you look lovely tonight.”  
Her smile widened, taking on an almost mischievous expression. “You seem to have made an effort, too. Nice suit.”  
“I brought you a little something,” the Doctor suddenly remembered the chocolate in the little paper bag he held in his hands and handed it to her.  
Clara raised her eyebrows when she took it from him. “A paper bag? Most men would have brought flowers.”  
However, when she looked inside, her face instantly lit up. “Oh my God, you got the chocolate,” she exclaimed and before he knew what exactly was happening, she had unwrapped it and taken a bite right from the bar.  
“ _Mhhhh_ ,” she hummed, her eyes closed as she was enjoying the moment.  
The Doctor couldn't help but laugh at her reaction and at that moment he realized something: he liked seeing her happy. He liked _making_ her happy. That smile on her face somehow warmed his heart and he wanted it to never go away. It was so wrong, Clara was only another case, or at least she should have been.  
“God, this is amazing,” her voice interrupted his train of thought, “Where did you even get Swiss Chocolate from?”  
He granted her a sheepish smile. “Someone owed me a favour,” the Doctor explained, shrugging and before he could even react Clara had gone up on tiptoes and pressed a swift kiss to her cheek. He was so shocked he couldn't even do anything.  
“Shall we go?” Clara asked excitedly as she place the chocolate back into the paper bag an stored it away on a shelf in Amy's shop.  
Her kiss was still burning on his skin and his heart almost threatened to jump out of his chest. He didn't just like making her happy, he liked _her_. A lot.

The dance hall wasn't too crowded, but there was a fair number of couples already dancing to the music provided by a live band. Clara was holding on to his arm as they walked inside and suddenly the Doctor felt a little afraid. He hadn't really thought much about it beforehand, except about the fact that it was a bad idea, and now that he was here with Clara, he realized that she would probably want him to dance. A few hours ago that wouldn't have been a big deal at all, but all of a sudden he was afraid to make a fool of himself.  
“Do you want to dance or get something to drink?” Clara asked him after a moment.  
“I, uhm,” he paused, looking at her excited face, “A drink sounds nice.”  
Clara reached for his hand and pulled him in the direction of the bar where they sat down on the bar stools.  
“So, how are your pupils?” the Doctor asked after a moment, trying to make small talk and hoping it would make him forget how nervous he actually felt, “Karl still behaving?”  
Clara nodded. “Yep, you scared him well.”  
“Good to know,” the Doctor smiled.  
She told him a little more about her work as a teacher and in return the Doctor talked about his practice, carefully leaving out his other job of being a private detective. They drank their drinks, laughed, and he was slowly beginning to loosen up a little and forget why he had approached Clara in the first place when she decided that it was time to dance.  
“Uhm,” the Doctor hesitated as she started tugging at his arm, “I don't really do that.”  
“Shut up and dance with me,” Clara giggled and finally managed to drag him to the dance floor where a song had just ended.  
“Clara, I-” he aimed to protest but somehow his hand automatically landed on her waist while the other held hers, and when the song started he had no other choice.  
It had been decades since his last dance and he felt like he had forgotten how to do it. He was definitely going to make a fool of himself tonight.  
Suddenly Clara started to chuckle. “Wow, you're a lousy dancer.”  
“In my defence, I did try to warn you.”  
She smiled at him. “I don't mind.”

The Doctor liked dancing with Clara and he hated that he liked it. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was a case, just a case, and he wasn't supposed to enjoy her company as much as he did. But when he led her around her the dance floor, almost stumbling over his own two feet more than just once, he wished for a moment that Clara was just an ordinary woman that he had met by accident because then he would be free to enjoy this evening completely without having to think about the fiancé, who Clara thought was long dead. What would Clara do if she found out he had been lying to her? The Doctor dreaded to think.  
“Are you okay?” Clara asked him suddenly and only now he realized that she had scooted a little closer to him, that their bodies were touching. If only it wasn't so wrong.  
“Yeah,” he lied, “Just trying very hard not to step on your toes.”  
“Too late for that,” she giggled.  
“Sorry,” the Doctor uttered an apology, “Do you want to take a break?”  
Slowly she shook her head, still smiling up at him. “No, not really. This is quite nice.”

Somehow the Doctor hated it when another song ended and Clara started to complain about her hurting feet and when he looked at the clock he realized that they had been here for almost four hours, just pausing the dance to get something to drink before going straight back to the dance floor. He wasn't ready to say that he was a good dancer, but he could already feel himself improving. Then a yawn came over Clara's lips and the Doctor knew it was time to go home.  
She held his hand as they walked all the way back and his doubts were slowly returning to him. The evening had been nothing but wonderful and he knew that Clara would ask to repeat it. _He_ wanted to repeat it.  
“Thank you,” Clara said after a while and when he glanced at her, the Doctor noticed her smiling happily, “I had a lovely time tonight.”  
“I enjoyed it, too,” he replied carefully when he came to a halt in front of her door.  
There was a small frown appearing on Clara's face, one that told him she was thinking about something important.  
“Are you so reluctant because I'm younger than you?” she suddenly asked him.  
“What?”  
“Because I'm not bothered by the age difference. You, on the other hand, something seems to hold you back,” she paused, looking at him as if trying to read his mind, “You say you enjoyed the evening but I'm not getting the feeling that you did. I would almost go as far and say you don't really like me, but you keep helping me out, you keep coming back. You brought me chocolate.”  
“I like you,” the Doctor said as if by instinct, “I really do.”  
“Prove it,” Clara challenged him and for a moment he thought she looked nervous.  
“Oh, that game again,” he exhaled sharply, “Earn my trust. Prove I like you. Clara, how am I supposed to do that?” the Doctor asked, his voice almost desperate, but he never got an answer from her.  
Instead she went up on her toes once more, holding on to the lapels of his coat as she pulled him down. Only this time her lips didn't land on his cheek.  
The moment their lips touched the Doctor knew he was doomed. As he opened his mouth to her, tasting her sweet tongue on his own, he couldn't help but close his arms around her and hold her exactly in place. He liked her too much to let go and for a brief moment he thought about what would happen if he just told Danny that Edith was dead.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing comments, guys :) Cute date, huh? Let's continue with that cuteness.

The Doctor was waiting outside her school like he had done for the last two weeks and Clara greeted him with a smile when she spotted him. He was a strange man and the last weeks had been strange as well and even to this day Clara still wasn't sure what exactly was going on between the two of them. They spent time together nearly every single day, he walked her home from school, on some days she made him dinner and then they shared a goodbye kiss that seemed to last a little longer every day.  
“Teach anything good?” he asked her as they started walking the children back to the orphanage.  
“Oh, you need to ask them,” Clara replied, nodding towards the noisy hoard walking ahead of them.  
Then she noticed Gideon slowing down a little until he was almost walking right next to them. It seemed to take him a while to gather his courage, but eventually he turned around to look at the Doctor.  
“Are you Miss Oswald's gentleman friend?” the young boy asked.  
Clara couldn't help but giggle when she saw the look on the Doctor's face that told her he was more than just a little uncomfortable with the situation. When he didn't answer Clara decided to help him out.  
“Gideon, where did you pick up that expression?” she chuckled.  
“I read it,” he explained, but kept his eyes on the Doctor, “So, are you?”  
“Yes,” Clara cocked her eyebrows at the Doctor, “Are you my gentleman friend?”  
He only growled in reply. “I think you're way too nosy for your age,” he told the boy.  
“Oh, don't be so mean to him, Doctor,” Clara gave him a soft nudge as she hooked her arm in his. Gideon seemed to have lost interest in digging into her private life and went ahead to join the rest of the group.  
“He really is too nosy,” he insisted grumpily, “But I guess they're good kids.”  
Clara sighed next to him. “Yeah, they are. And tougher than you'd think.”  
“They're from Germany, aren't they? Jewish kids?”  
Suddenly Clara stiffened up at the mention of it and she prayed that the Doctor hadn't noticed her initial reaction.  
“Yeah,” she replied after a moment.  
“But they didn't come here with the kindertransport, did they? Some of them seem too young and their English isn't good enough for them to have been here six years.”  
“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Clara asked him, desperate to change the subject, “It's a week from today, so we should probably decide what we want to do. If we want to do something together.”  
“Uhm,” he hesitated, “I don't really celebrate Christmas.”  
“This year you will,” Clara smiled at him, “With me.”  
“Clara, I-” the Doctor paused and Clara knew that he was going to protest. That was why it was still strange between them, because he held back for some reason and there was a wall around him that she just never managed to breach. “Okay.”  
“What? Really?” she asked in surprise.  
“Yes,” he granted her a smile and suddenly Clara could feel him reach for her hand, “Yes, let's celebrate that silly tradition together.”  
Clara couldn't help but beam at him. She was going to celebrate Christmas with him. Just her and the Doctor. And for some reason it made her ecstatically happy.

They stopped in front of her door a short walk later and Clara once more asked herself when he would finally crack and agree to stay over night. She had been able to convince him to dinner, but no more. She should probably learn to be a little more patient.  
“Are you staying for dinner?” Clara asked him casually once she had unlocked her door, giving him her best smile.  
“Not tonight,” he replied, “I have some paperwork waiting for me at the office.”  
“Tomorrow then?”  
He frowned. “I thought tomorrow was this dance thing you wanted to go to.”  
The smile on her face widened. “You wanna go as much as I do, admit it.”  
The Doctor chuckled and let himself fall back against the wall, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. “You caught me.”  
“Pick me up at seven,” Clara told him before she approached him, pulling him down to kiss her.  
When his hands closed around her back and pulled her closer against his chest, Clara could feel her entire body tingle with excitement. She was dying to go further. She wanted nothing more than to slip that coat right off his shoulders, unbutton every single, annoying, little button of his shirt that he always closed up right to the collar. Clara hadn't even noticed how their kiss had deepened until she found herself moaning into his mouth and the Doctor gently pushed her away. He seemed infuriatingly calm when Clara was almost bursting inside.  
“You sure you don't wanna come inside?” she asked, still catching her breath.  
“Not tonight,” he said softly and bent down to leave a kiss on her forehead, “Sleep well.”  
“You, too,” Clara sighed. 

She let out a long, frustrated groan when she had closed the door behind her and immediately she heard her friend Amy chuckle.  
“Still no luck?” she asked her.  
“He's a man,” Clara complained, “It really shouldn't be that hard to get him to go further.”  
Still her friend laughed. “Nope, that's not what should be hard.”  
Clara shot her a dirty glance when she let herself fall down on one of the chairs. “Not funny,” she growled, “But seriously, we've been seeing each other on a daily basis for two weeks now, known each other for a month, and every time we kiss I just want to-”  
Clara just uttered a frustrated noise when she thought about how much she wanted more than just what they were currently doing.  
“Doesn't he feel the same? I mean, if he doesn't like me, why is he sticking around at all?”  
“Clara, for the last time. _He likes you._ Maybe he's just old-fashioned?” Amy suggested, shrugging, “I mean, he is older. He probably has different values and ideas of how dating works.”  
Clara sighed, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that that wasn't all there was to it.

* * *

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief when he had reached his house and no one was waiting for him by the doorstep. Every since he had started going out with Clara there had been this fear, however irrational, that Danny would decide to stop by or that Mendon had come to tell him his time was up.  
Mendon he could handle. He could threaten or punch him or whatever was necessary to get him to back off.  
However Danny Pink wasn't such an easy matter. He could just tell him that he found nothing at all, that there was no trace of a woman named Edith Winter, refuse to get paid for nothing and be done with it. Or he could tell him that Edith was dead – which wouldn't even be a lie because technically she had never existed in the first place. The man's heart would be broken, but he would heal.

Yet he knew that it wouldn't be right and a part of him just couldn't do it to Clara. She was obviously over him, but didn't she have a right to know the truth? The Doctor still felt torn about her, a part of him loving the turn their relationship had taken and wanting to go further, another part of him wary of what would happen if the truth ever came out. He wanted her so much that it became increasingly hard to turn her down day after day, but he had to. At least until he had made up his mind about what he was going to do. Maybe he should tell her. After Christmas.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the commeeeeeeeent :)

The Doctor followed Clara around the little shop, watched her stop in front of shelves and obviously considering what to buy and what to leave. It bugged him that she couldn't just have whatever she wanted. Damn that stupid war. Damn those stupid coupons. All she wanted was a nice Christmas dinner and if he was completely honest, the Doctor wanted it, too. Above all he wanted it for her. He hadn't celebrated Christmas since his childhood days for the main reason that he had never had anyone to celebrate it with. Now, with Clara, it suddenly made all the sense in the world to sit down in front of a meal in a nicely decorated room and enjoy the spirit of it.  
The Doctor bent forward and placed the sugar she had been eyeing for a while in their basket and Clara immediately shot around and stared at him with large eyes, a look of horror on her face.  
“Doctor, I can't afford that. I haven't got enough coupons,” she whispered harshly.  
“It's on me,” he replied, giving her a light smile, “What's Christmas without Christmas biscuits?”  
“But you didn't even want to celebrate Christmas,” she argued further and to end their discussion the Doctor took the basket from her hands and walked ahead.  
“So, what else do we need? Flour? I'm not an expert, but I'm sure that should be in biscuits as well.”  
“Doctor,” Clara positioned herself in front of him, blocking the way, “Why are you doing this? Last week you only grudgingly agreed to have Christmas dinner at all. Now you're gonna use your own coupons so I can make biscuits? I don't understand.”  
The Doctor inhaled sharply, looking down at her face that seemed more confused than ever. How could Mendon ever think that Clara was a murderer? How could anyone think that when she was so innocent, just an ordinary woman who was trying to live her life as best as she could. And she deserved so much better than that.  
“You want to celebrate Christmas,” the Doctor eventually said, “And if we're gonna do it, then I want to make it nice for you, we'll do it properly. I haven't celebrated it in a long time, but I know for sure that biscuits are part of the whole thing and you shouldn't have to think twice about whether you can afford the sugar or not. So, my initial aversion aside, let's make this Christmas a good one, okay?”  
For a moment Clara seemed lost for words, but eventually a smile spread over her face before she went up on tiptoes and pecked him on the lips.  
“You're sweet,” she told him.  
The Doctor chuckled, his heart warming at the sight of her smile once more. “You know what else is gonna be sweet? Our Christmas biscuits.”  
Clara laughed as she hooked her arm in his and they continued to make their way through the shop, just buying whatever they needed. The Doctor couldn't tell her the truth. As private detective he had been paid in coupons more than just once, but at least that allowed him to take care of her now, if only for the holidays. 

When they headed out of the shop however the Doctor realized to his dismay that it was pouring outside. There had been only a couple of snowflakes this morning, but the weather had warmed up since then and now the water came down in torrents.  
“Ugh, that's. . . disgusting,” Clara commented when she saw it, “Shall we wait for it to stop?”  
“You're out of luck for that, Miss,” the shop owner called out to her, “Weather report said it's gonna rain all day and night.”  
Clara threw the Doctor a scowling glance, wrinkling her nose at the rain. He wasn't really keen on getting drenched, but it seemed they really were out of luck. And neither of them had brought an umbrella.  
“I think we should run,” he determined, “Either way we'll get soaked, but at least it'll be over more quickly.”  
“Fine,” Clara agreed with a sigh.  
The Doctor took their shopping bags before they both darted outside, the rain instantly rattling down on them as they made their way through the streets as fast as they could. It didn't change the fact that they were both soaked to the bones within a minute and the Doctor could feel the cold water on his skin, running down his face and seeping through the wool of his coat. It was as disgusting as he had imagined it to be.  
“Hate the rain,” Clara complained breathlessly as they ran, “Hate it! Hate it! Hate it!”  
“Right there with you,” the Doctor agreed.  
It didn't take them long to reach the little tailor's shop and they both stormed inside, the water instantly dripping from their clothes to the floor.  
“Didn't expect drowned rats today,” Amy looked up from her sewing machine.  
“No jokes,” Clara replied grumpily and shivered as she spoke, “We'll be upstairs.”

The Doctor hadn't really planned on staying, but seeing as he was wet from head to toe, he figured it would do him good to at last dry his coat a little before borrowing an umbrella to head home. Clara instantly took off her coat and threw it over the nearest chair, still trembling in her wet dress and the Doctor figured he should do the same. After placing the groceries aside he peeled himself out of his coat and hung it over the other, still empty chair, but when he looked up he noticed that Clara was beginning to strip out of her dress as well.  
“What are you waiting for?” she asked him impatiently, “Take those clothes off or they'll never dry.”  
“Uhm,” he hesitated, “I'm good.”  
Clara, now only in her undergarments, snorted as she approached him and instinctively the Doctor averted his gaze. He shouldn't look. He really shouldn't.  
“You'll be down with a cold on Christmas,” she commented and suddenly her hands were on his chest, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt and now he had to look at what was right in front of him. The rain had washed the curls out of her hair, leaving it hanging on her shoulders and still dripping down on her chemise that was already wet and transparent enough to leave nothing to his imagination. And of course he had imagined it, anything else would be a blatant lie. Yet so far he had resisted the temptation to give in to her even though it had been plain to the Doctor that Clara had been trying lure him into her bed for a while now. But right now he was cold and her body heat so inviting that he suddenly wasn't sure what he was going to do next.  
Then Clara slipped his shirt off his shoulders and pushed herself up against him, his body instantly reacting to the sudden sensation.  
He swallowed. “Clara, what are you doing?” his voice was barely a whisper.  
“I'm cold,” she replied, looking at him through big, brown eyes that made his knees go weak. Damn, it really was cold and her body radiated heat. Somehow it felt too good to ignore.  
The Doctor bent down, brushing their lips together and Clara responded instantly, opening her mouth to let him in and his body reacted the way it usually did when she kissed him and he pulled her closer. Everything about her just felt so good. Why couldn't he just let it happen when they both wanted it?  
Because of Danny. Because of what Mendon had said. Because he was lying to Clara.  
Her hands wandered further down until they came to rest on his belt, closer to where he was already starting to grow hard, and before he could protest she had undone it and dipped her hand past his waistband.  
Clara chuckled against his lips. “Even your underwear wasn't spared by the rain. Better to take it off, don't you think?”  
To hell with Danny, to hell with Mendon. He moaned into her mouth when Clara struggled to free him from his trousers and he was more than eager to help with that until the rest of his clothes dropped to the floor, leaving him completely naked in front of her.  
Clara suddenly broke the kiss and reached for his hand, carefully pulling him in the direction of her bed and somehow the Doctor had no more strength to resist. And he didn't want to either. Before she could let herself fall down on her bed the Doctor pulled her back, pressing his lips to hers once more and brushing the straps of her chemise aside until it dropped to the floor and he could feel her skin almost burning against his own.  
The Doctor took a moment to look at her, marvelling at her youthful body that didn't have a single flaw. Her shoulders were straight, stomach flat, her breasts perfect and even and he bent down to place a kiss on the space between them. Clara shivered under his touch and made the smallest, sweetest noise.  
He stopped placing kisses on his way down her body when he suddenly spotted a scar on her thigh, just above her stockings and he lifted his hand to trace the long cut with his fingers.  
“Ignore it,” Clara murmured, “It's just an old scar.”  
The detective in him knew that it wasn't as old as Clara made it. Two, maybe three years. But the man gave up trying to figure it out when Clara pulled him back up and kissed his chest, just the point she could reach with her height.  
“You're beautiful,” he whispered when she caressed his neck, “So beautiful.”  
His whispering turned into a soft moan when she reached between them and wrapped her hand around him, slowing stroking up and down his hardening length. Who even cared about the scar and where it had come from? Her touch made him forget all about that.  
“Clara, I-” he panted when he realized she had no intention of stopping, “I haven't brought protection.”  
“I have,” she replied and when he looked at her, frowning, he noticed a mischievous smile on her face. She really had planned it for a while.  
The Doctor scooped her up in his arms and a moment later they both landed on her bed, he on top of her, and he immediately bent down to kiss her once more. His erection was pressing against the heat of her sex, that delicious spot that he was itching to dive into. Then suddenly Clara giggled against his lips and the Doctor broke the kiss of look at her in confusion.  
“I take it you are my _gentleman friend_ then?”  
Instead of replying the Doctor only smiled at her, knowing that he was and for a moment that fact even made him feel a little proud.  
Clara reached into her drawer and pulled out a packet of condoms that the Doctor immediately took from her. When at last he sank into her, engulfed in her wetness, all the thoughts that had held him back before had simply vanished from his mind and he could let himself fall.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)

The Doctor was lying beneath her as Clara nuzzled her face against his chest with a smile while he had his arms wrapped loosely around her. The wait had definitely been worth it. And still Clara felt as if they weren't quite there yet. Now that they were just lying in bed, the Doctor suddenly felt miles away again. Maybe that was just who he was? Always a little shy, a little reluctant? If only she could be sure there wasn't more to it.  
“What are you thinking about?” Clara found herself asking after a moment, her fingers drawing circles on the skin of his chest.  
“Nothing,” he replied and she felt him place a soft kiss on her head.  
She inhaled sharply. “Are you sure? You seem a bit. . . far away.”  
He chuckled and Clara could feel him move beneath her. “Just thinking about what a wonderful woman you are.”  
Clara turned her head and looked up at him, frowning. That wasn't what he was thinking about, far from it, and she knew. “Liar.”  
“What?” the Doctor chuckled nervously.  
Clara sat up in bed and covered herself with the sheets, but her eyes remained fixed on him. “Something is bothering you. It's been bothering you right from the start and I want to know what that is. I'm not stupid, Doctor, and I'm not a little girl in need of protecting. So tell me!”  
He sighed and sank further into the pillows, closing his eyes for a moment. “It's nothing,” he said eventually, “Well, nothing that should worry you.”  
“Tell me anyway,” Clara prompted him.  
Finally he sat back up and looked at her, but he hesitated to speak. “I was just. . . I was wondering why that man is after you, what he wants with you. Whether or not he's going to try again.”  
Clara swallowed and her first instinct was to jump out of bed, make up some excuse and change the topic. But this was the Doctor, her protector, the first man since Danny that she had been with and she liked him. A lot. What sort of future could they possibly have if she couldn't even tell him? And she wanted a future. She wanted a nice man in her life and Clara really wanted to believe that the Doctor could be him.  
“He wants to know about my past,” Clara admitted after a moment, “I don't know why, but that's what he said.”  
The Doctor frowned at her. “Your past? You haven't done anything bad, have you?”  
“No,” Clara replied instantly, shaking her head, “If anything, I haven't done enough.”  
The Doctor leaned forward and reached for her hand, squeezing it in his own in a comforting gesture. “You can tell me, Clara. I've seen two wars, there's nothing that I can't handle.”  
“I've seen worse,” she admitted and bit down on her lip. She hated talking about it, the images of horror immediately flashing up again in front of her eyes and she could feel the tears coming.  
Then the Doctor bent down and kissed her forehead. “It's okay, Clara,” he whispered, “Whatever it is, it's in the past. And I will protect you if it comes back to haunt you.”  
Clara inhaled sharply and looked at him. The tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes, but they didn't run down her cheeks. Somehow the Doctor being here kept them at bay.  
“I was part of a secret mission during the war,” she began quietly, “Hardly anyone knew about it, just a handful of people and we were smuggled into Germany.”  
“You worked as a spy?” the Doctor inquired and she now realized that he was still holding her hand.  
“No, nothing like that,” Clara explained, “The plan was help Jewish kids. To help them get to the UK. You were right. Some of the children in my class didn't come here with the kindertransport. We brought them here.”  
“Why you?” he asked her and he seemed genuinely curious about it, “I'm sorry, but if I was in charge of an operation like that, I wouldn't necessarily pick an English teacher.”  
“My mother was German and I speak it fluently. They gave me a new name, new papers, brought me to Germany. And I came back with some of the kids.”  
“But not enough?”  
Clara looked him straight in the eyes. “They murdered innocent people by the millions,” she hissed, “I saved eight. I wouldn't necessarily call it a success.”  
To her surprise the Doctor smiled at her. “Clara, that is eight people who are only alive because of you, who get a chance for a fresh start, an education here in the UK because of you. You risked your own life for a handful of strangers and you're alive. If that's not a success, I don't know what is.”  
“I wish I could have done more,” she admitted before the Doctor kissed her again.  
When he looked at her the Doctor shook his head. “You already did more than most. And that part of your past is nothing you have to hide. You should be proud of it.”  
Clara took a deep breath. She had confessed this much to him, now she might as well confess the rest. “I killed a man.”  
The Doctor knitted his eyebrows at her.  
“A Nazi discovered us and I killed him. That's how I got the scar, from his knife,” she nodded towards her leg.  
Yet the Doctor didn't react the way she had expected him to. Instead he shrugged. “We were at war and at war it is either you or them. And I'm glad it is you who came out alive.”  
“So am I,” she admitted weakly.  
Suddenly the Doctor pulled the covers away from her and bent down, placing a long kiss on the spot where he had discovered her scar last night. When he came back up he was smiling at her.  
“The past is the past, Clara. We all have our demons and I don't care what you've done. What matters is that you are here now. With me.”  
At the sight of his smile Clara couldn't help but return it before she bent forward and kissed him on the lips. Opening up to him had felt better than she had expected and somehow she got the impression that a part of his barrier had melted away. Maybe he would finally let her into his life now.

* * *

For the first time the Doctor stayed all night and if he was completely honest, he was enjoying every second of it. Waking up with Clara in his arms was more than he could have ever hoped for, especially now. She had told him about her past and something told the Doctor that she hadn't lied or left out anything important. That was Clara, the way she was. Now that he knew he would find a way to protect her from Mendon, who couldn't be more wrong in his suspicion about Clara. That was one problem almost solved.  
The other, however, wasn't so easy to get rid of. The Doctor understood now why Danny knew her under the name of Edith Winter and he had understood weeks ago why he was so eager to find her. How could any man just let go of a woman like Clara? The Doctor certainly wouldn't. He just needed to find a way to get rid of Danny.  
“You know what I just realized?” Clara asked him and the Doctor looked up, watching her kneading the dough for the biscuits.  
“I have the suspicion you're going to tell me any second,” he replied.  
She smiled at him. “I've never seen how you live. I've seen your practice, but not the rest of it. I'm curious.”  
“Picture a rubbish tip,” the Doctor told her.  
Clara raised her eyebrows at him.  
“That's about what it looks like.”  
She giggled when she let go of the dough and started to approach him, wrapping her arms around him from behind while being careful not to stain his clothes. “You're being silly,” she told him, “I still want to see it.”  
“Alright. If you give me a week or so to clean up,” he agreed.  
Suddenly Clara let go of him and glanced in the direction of the oven. “I think the turkey is done. Shall we eat?”  
The Doctor nodded happily and sighed. It was his first Christmas in a very long time and he was celebrating it with the most wonderful woman.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, guys :) Not sure when the next update will be as I have a few (a few meaning 5) tests at school this week :/

The Doctor watched her carefully as she stepped through his practice, now obviously eyeing it a little more closely than she had the last time and he quite liked the sight of her in his own house. Somehow it looked just right to his eyes.  
“Show me the rest,” she prompted him with a large grin stuck on her face, “I’m curious.”  
“Are you sure?” he cocked his eyebrows at her, knowing that he hardly had anything to hide now that he had spend the last two days cleaning up.  
Instead of replying directly Clara moved on and pointed towards a door. “What’s in there?”  
“That’s my office,” he explained.  
“I thought I was in your office when you gave me the injection?”  
“My other office,” the Doctor replied, “Where I do my paper work.”  
It was his detective office. The one he met clients in after his practice closed, but right now there was no trace of his other job to be found in there. He would tell Clara one day, probably sooner rather than later, but first he had to get rid of Danny.  
Without hesitation Clara walked inside and took off her coat and scarf, throwing them over a chair. After having a good, long look around she jumped up and sat on his desk as if she owned the place, as if she belonged nowhere else.  
“Desk seems robust,” she commented with a smile and the Doctor couldn’t hold back the laugh.  
“You’re having indecent thoughts, don’t deny it,” he said, slowly stepping closer. Clara was quite modern when it came to that and he had to admit that he liked it. It was refreshing, invigorating even.  
“Always,” she replied, smiling, before he bent down and placed a short kiss on her lips.  
“Save them for later, young lady.” The Doctor reached for her hand to help her down from his desk and grabbed her jacket, pulling Clara in the direction of the corridor. She granted him another smile as she eventually followed him upstairs to where he lived. The Doctor felt a little insecure as she stepped inside his bachelor pad, inspecting his kitchen and living room closely. He had cleaned up, but it hadn’t really aided to making it feel more homely.  
“It’s a tip,” he repeated, “Don’t look too closely.”  
Clara merely shrugged. “It’s fine. Could use the touch of a woman though.”  
She made a gesture of prodding his kitchen counter with her index finger, giggling as she did and the Doctor laughed at it.  
“Yeah, seems better already,” he replied jokingly, but just as he was about to bend forward and kiss her, the door bell interrupted them both.  
“Who could that be? A patient?” Clara asked immediately.  
“Probably,” the Doctor replied and hesitated. He knew it could only be connected to his detective agency and he was already starting to fear the worst. Maybe it would be best not to answer the door at all.  
“Well, go on,” she prompted him, “Answer it. I'll get started on dinner in the meantime.”  
“The practice is closed and you're here and-”  
“It might be an emergency,” Clara gave her him best puppy dog eyes before her face turned into a frown, “Or don't you trust me enough to leave me alone in your flat?”  
The bell rang again and it seemed as if the Doctor had no choice but to answer the door now that Clara was basically blackmailing him.  
“I'll be right back,” he said, placed a quick kiss on her forehead and headed back downstairs. 

When the Doctor tore the door open he caught Danny Pink just in time before he could ring a third time.  
“This isn't really the best timing,” the Doctor growled at him, “Besides, I thought I had told you I would contact you.”  
“I think I saw her!” Danny blurted out and instantly stepped inside without even waiting for the Doctor to invite him in.  
The Doctor sighed as he followed the agitated man into his office, all the while thinking of a way to play it down. Somehow he had to get Danny to back off.  
“I was on the train and I think I saw her on the platform, but I'm not sure.”  
The Doctor shrugged. “Are you sure you didn't just _want_ to see her? I don't think Edith is in London. I'm not even sure she is still alive. I've been trying to find her, but with no luck so far,” he lied, hoping that Danny wouldn't notice.  
Now the man looked a little bit lost. “I'm not sure. That's why I came to you,” he replied eventually, “If Edith really is in London, then why wasn't she at our flat?”  
“I don't know, that's what I'm trying to find out if only you gave me time to actually figure it out,” the Doctor spat back but he never received an answer.  
Danny's eyes were now fixed on an object the Doctor hadn't even realized had fallen to the floor earlier. Clara's scarf. Carefully Danny went down on his knees to pick it up while the Doctor was still frozen to the spot. He couldn't even find the words to say anything.  
“That's Edith's scarf,” he realized, turning it over his hands, not even looking at the Doctor.  
“No, it's not,” he argued.  
“Yes, it is,” Danny replied and held the knitted piece of clothing in his direction, “I recognize the pattern. When Edith and I met I bumped into her and she dropped her scarf and purse and I went to pick it up for her. Her grandmother had made this for her!”  
“It's not her scarf,” the Doctor said sharply and tore it from Danny's hand, “It belongs to a patient. She must have forgotten it earlier.”  
“I _know_ that scarf,” Danny insisted sharply, “Edith never wore anything else with her coat.”  
He sighed in defeat, knowing that the soldier wouldn't give up on this one. “I will ask my patient if she has heard of Edith,” the Doctor said eventually, “Maybe she knows something.”  
“Yeah,” Danny breathed in reply, “Maybe.”  
“Now, if you would be so kind as to leave me alone. I have dinner in the oven,” the Doctor headed out of his office and opened the front door for Danny, but the man only followed reluctantly. “I promise, I will contact you as soon as I've heard something.”  
Slowly Danny nodded. “Alright. I'll wait.”  
“Bye,” he said and closed the door behind Danny Pink. 

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief once he was alone again and leaned against the door. He needed to get rid of him before Danny realized that he was playing a double game. But he couldn't give Clara up, especially not now that he was beginning to fall in love with her.

Clara was stirring their dinner when he came back upstairs and she didn't even seem to notice him at first. The Doctor lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her. Was she over Danny? Would she still be over him if she knew he was alive and looking for her or would he lose her to the other man? No, it was not a risk he was willing to take.  
He stepped up to her and closed his arms around her from behind, bending down to kiss her hair. Clara smelled amazing, she felt amazing. He wouldn't lose her.  
“What do you think about going to a dance on New Year's Eve?” the Doctor asked.  
“I'd love to,” Clara replied with a giggle and turned around in his embrace, “We could go together with Amy and Rory. You'd like them.”  
“Okay,” he agreed with a smile before Clara turned to face their dinner again, “So, who was at the door?”  
The Doctor swallowed, knowing that he was telling her one lie after the other. But it was for the best. It was the only way he could be sure to keep her. “Just a patient,” he lied eventually, “Had left his wallet this morning.”  
He couldn't tell Clara the truth. Not now. Not ever.


	20. Chapter 20

The Doctor stepped up to the shabby looking apartment complex and eyed it closely for a moment. If that was where Danny lived, he had definitely made the right decision. The stairwell smelled of something rotten and the floor creaked under this feet as he made his way up to Danny's flat to deliver the sad news about Edith's death. He had arranged it all, including the fake death certificate. It really was a blessing that so many important people still owed him a favour or two.  
The door opened and Danny let him step inside without saying a word, once more reminding the Doctor why his decision had been the right one. He had thought of his own house as shabby, but compared to Danny's place his house was a mansion. The flat was as small as Clara's, only a lot less clean, and mould was slowly spreading out over the ceiling. No, Danny couldn't have Clara back, not ever. A place like this was all he could afford with his pension and Clara deserved more than that. Danny could never take care of her.  
“I suppose there's a reason you've come here other than to look at my furniture,” Danny interrupted his thoughts and the Doctor turned around to face him, faking a sad smile.  
“There is. And I'm sorry,” he lied and drew an envelope out of his pocket, handing it over to the other man.  
Danny opened it and carefully unfolded the paper, his face losing colour as soon as he glanced at the certificate. The Doctor had almost felt sorry for him, but the thought about Clara made all of that go away in an instant. He would go home to be with her at the end of the day and they would have a future together. The Doctor would take better care of her than Danny Pink ever could.  
Danny swallowed hard. “This can't be right,” he whispered.  
The Doctor cleared his throat. “The car came out of nowhere right when she was crossing the street. She didn't stand a chance. The lady that lost the scarf in my practice was an acquaintance Edith had brought groceries to every week. She kept it as a memory.”  
“It doesn't make sense,” Danny looked up at the Doctor, “Why were some of her things missing from our flat?”  
He only shrugged in reply. “I don't know, Mr Pink, and I doubt you will ever find out. Edith is gone. She has been gone for years, like I told you. And now I think it's time you moved on with your life,” he gestured around the room, “You're a war hero. There are hundreds of unmarried women out there looking for a husband.”  
“I'd like you to leave now,” Danny growled in reply, “Just tell me what I owe you.”  
“Nothing,” the Doctor shook his head, “You owe me nothing. Save that money for Mrs Pink.”  
Danny nodded in reply, lowering his gaze back to the death certificate and the Doctor decided to leave it. Danny Pink wouldn't investigate further, he would accept Edith's death as soon as the truth had sunk in. The truth. The truth was that she had never really existed. Clara, however, belonged to him.

* * *

“Your window is broken again,” the Doctor's voice interrupted her just as she was applying her eyeliner.  
“Yeah,” she breathed in reply, looking at him, “But not as badly as it was before. It's fine.”  
“The cold air is still coming in. Doesn't matter if it comes in through a small crack or a larger one, it's still chilly in here.”  
Clara turned to face the mirror again, determined to finish her make up. They were supposed to meet Amy and Rory for the New Year's Eve dance and they were already running late.  
Behind her the Doctor sighed. “I know someone who owes me a favour. He can replace that window for you and you wouldn't have to pay a penny for it.”  
Clara chuckled, this time not even looking at him. As good as that sounded, she couldn't have a handyman take apart her flat, especially not without Amy's consent. “And where would I stay while he's working on it? No, I'd rather sleep with a crack in the window frame than with no window at all for days.”  
She saw him shrug in the mirror. “I have a house,” he stated simply.  
And suddenly the idea seemed a lot more tempting. Not just because she wouldn't have to sleep with several blankets anymore, but also because it meant Clara would technically be living with him, if only for a few days. She liked that idea more than she would have thought.  
Clara turned back around. “You mean I could stay with you? In the house you didn't even want to show me in the first place?”  
“You've seen it now,” he replied.  
“I have. And I like it.”  
“So, how about you move in with me?”  
Clara opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out when his question had finally sunk in.  
“For a few days I mean,” the Doctor quickly corrected himself, “Or as long as is needed to fix your window.”  
Finally Clara cracked a smile. “Alright, let's do that. And now let me get ready or Amy will be furious,” she laughed and turned back around towards the mirror. Her make up was almost done and she didn't need any more distractions.

However she noticed the Doctor slowly rising from her sofa and walking in her direction until he came to a halt right behind Clara.  
“You know what would go well with that dress?”  
Clara smiled into the mirror, noting that her lipstick had turned out perfect. “I have a feeling you're going to tell me any moment.”  
But instead of telling her anything, the Doctor drew something out of his pocket and a few seconds later he lowered a pearl necklace around her neck. She waited until he had closed it before turning around to gawk at him, for a moment unable to say anything at all.  
“Take it as a late Christmas present,” he replied, smiling, before he bent down to place a short kiss on her cheek.  
“Doctor,” Clara attempted to protest, but she couldn't find the words. The gift was too expensive. She couldn't accept it. And yet a part of her was unspeakably happy. Not because of the gift, but because of the man in her life who was considerate enough to buy her something nice.  
“Before you get your hopes up, they're not real pearls,” he said after a moment.  
“They look real,” she replied and turned them around in her fingers. They felt real, too.  
“One of the better imitates,” he granted her a shy smile, “Can't quite afford the real thing yet.”  
Clara looked up at him, unable to tear her gaze away. “I don't need the real thing,” she breathed in reply before her lips curled into a smile, “I just need you.”  
Before the Doctor could react, Clara grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down, crashing their lips together in a kiss. So what if they were late for the dance. The Doctor was the best thing that had happened to her in the entire year and there was no one she would rather start the next one with than him.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the sweet comments, guys :)

Clara rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arm tightly around him as the Doctor pulled the duvet over both of them. Maybe he was right. It really was cold in here.  
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her quietly before he bent down to kiss her head, “Do you regret that we didn't go to the dance?”  
“No,” Clara smiled, “Just. . . just thinking about how lucky I am.”  
The Doctor chuckled softly underneath her. “Lucky?”  
With a sigh Clara reached for his hand under their blanket and squeezed it in her own. “I was engaged once and he died during the war. I had almost given up hope that I would find another man, a good man. And here you are. The best of them all.”  
She craned her neck to look at him, smiling.  
“I know it's pathetic,” she added, laughing at herself a little, “But being around a couple like Amy and Rory makes you wish for these things. For a loving relationship. I didn't expect to have that again.”  
Finally the Doctor smiled back at her. “That's not pathetic at all, darling,” he said and bent down to kiss her again.

Suddenly they were interrupted by a loud noise coming from outside and when they broke apart, Clara turned towards the window and spotted the reason for the disruption. It was midnight and fireworks had gone off all over the city, illuminating the sky in the most beautiful colours.  
They both rose from the bed and approached the window where the Doctor instantly wrapped the blanket around their naked bodies for warmth and together they watched the spectacle visible over the rooftops for a long moment. Clara leaned back against his chest and breathed in deeply, probably enjoying herself more than she would have at the dance.  
“You're not the only lucky person, you know,” the Doctor said after a while, “You're the best thing that could have ever happened to me.”  
“You seemed pretty reluctant in the beginning,” she commented because it was true and he had never given her a reason for it. He hadn't wanted to go out with her at all.  
The Doctor's chest moved when he chuckled. “Can you blame me? I wasn't like you, I wasn't looking for someone. And then I met you, young, beautiful and very straightforward. A woman has never asked me out before.”  
“Well,” Clara giggled and turned around in his embrace, looking at him, “Welcome to the modern age. And happy new year.”  
“Happy new year,” the Doctor replied, smiling, and only moments later their lips locked in another kiss.

* * *

It was a new year, a new beginning and the Doctor felt certain that it would be a good one. Now that Danny was out of the picture he could be with Clara and the fact that she had agreed to move in with him, if only for a few days, made him undeniably happy. He loved her. Right now, as she was lying in his arms and still sleeping peacefully, the Doctor loved her. And how could he not? She was brave and smart and beautiful and she wanted him. Those were damn good reasons to love her.  
A knock on the door eventually managed to rouse Clara from her sleep and she shifted in his arms before she turned around to face the door.  
“What is it?” she grumbled sleepily.  
“I thought you might want to join us for a new year's breakfast,” Amy said through the door, “Since you two already missed out on the dance.”  
Clara threw him a glance and the Doctor gave her a nod in reply. It was about time he finally met her friends properly.  
“We'll be downstairs in a bit,” Clara called out before she nestled her head against his chest, “Just a few more minutes.”  
“Come on,” the Doctor prompted her before he gave her a quick peck on the head, “Let's not make your friends wait.”  
She grumbled something in reply, but a few seconds later started scrambled into a sitting position. 

They put their clothes back on and the Doctor felt glad for the additional layer in Clara's freezing cold flat. With a bit of luck he could convince her to pack her things today. The Doctor didn't want her to spend another day in here or she might really catch pneumonia.  
Clara led him down the stairs and entered Amy's and Rory's flat without announcing herself and the Doctor soon noticed that it wasn't much different from Clara's room, if slightly bigger. Her friends weren't poor, but as the furniture and state of the flat showed, they were leading a modest life like most people did.  
“You must be the Doctor,” Amy's husband Rory extended his hand to him, “I'd love to say I've heard a lot about you, but they keep sending me out of the room whenever they want to have their girl talk.”  
“Rory!” Amy warned him instantly.  
“Well, Clara has told me only good things about you,” the Doctor replied politely, trying very hard not to blush. Of course Clara had talked to Amy about him. Women talk. How could he have forgotten that?  
“That's a relief,” Rory chuckled, “Well, time to set the table if we want to have breakfast some time soon.”  
“I'll help you,” Clara instantly joined in and crossed the room to join Rory at the counter.

Amy on the other hand had been inching closer to him the entire time and was now standing right next to him.  
“You make her really happy,” she whispered, giving him a friendly nudge.  
The Doctor couldn't help but smile. “She makes me really happy, too.”  
Suddenly Amy's posture changed and she didn't appear so friendly anymore as she looked up at him. “Don't hurt her,” Clara's friend warned him, “She's been through enough pain in her life. Clara is strong, but all she really wants is a normal, loving relationship. Don't take advantage of that.”  
He swallowed hard, remembering the secret he was keeping from her. But Danny was gone now and Clara would never know. “Don't worry,” the Doctor tried to reassure her, “I love her and anyone who wants to hurt her, they would have to go through me first.”  
Finally Amy smiled again. “I was hoping you'd say that.”  
Then she turned around and marched off in Clara's direction, grinning when she had reached her. “Is that a new necklace?”  
From across the room the Doctor watched Clara smile and he knew that Amy was right. Clara had been through more than enough and he wouldn't disappoint her. And he would tell her about his other job before she found out.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)

With a yawn Clara stretched out in bed, for once feeling warm and well rested. She had been staying with the Doctor for two days now and she wasn't regretting that decision one bit. His house was cosy and definitely a lot warmer than her place. Even his bed seemed a little bit softer than her own.  
When she turned around in bed she realized that the other half was empty – except for a small note. Clara reached out and unfolded the piece of paper.

_Good morning,  
I hope you slept well and will continue to sleep well until I've returned from work. You've still got holidays, so enjoy them. I, unfortunately, had to open my practice today. There is breakfast in the kitchen for when you get hungry. _

_The Doctor_

_P.S. I hope you have brought a nice dress because I'm planning to take you to dinner tonight._

 

Clara smiled to herself once she had finished reading the note. She had missed this sort of thing so much that she could hardly believe her luck. She had found someone. A nice man who treated her well and she loved him. Maybe, if the Doctor asked her, she would even move in with him permanently. Clara was absolutely aware that it was rushed, but why shouldn't they rush it? Life was short and if she had learned one thing, then it was that one should jump at a chance.  
She threw the duvet aside, no matter how comfortable the bed was, determined not to waste the day when she could just as well make herself useful. 

Her first action of the day was to take down all the curtains in every room that had been gathering dust for what looked like decades. When she went back to her flat to get a dress for the evening, Clara would stop by the cleaners to take care of that. She also swept the counters and the floor and once she looked upon the spotless surfaces she also made a mental note to bring back a tablecloth. 

Carrying her dress and the clean curtains over her arm, Clara headed back to the house in the afternoon, knowing that it wouldn't be long now until the Doctor closed his practice for the day. Nevertheless she stopped by a florist and bought a bouquet of flowers for the kitchen, which she placed neatly on the tablecloth just half an hour later. Putting the curtains back up proved to be a bit of a challenge for her height, but luckily the Doctor came to her aid just in time.  
“What are you doing?” he asked her and chuckled when he took the curtain out of her hands and fastened it to the rod without an effort.  
Clara brushed the strand of hair out of her face that had come loose during her struggle. “Nothing,” she replied matter-of-factly and shrugged, “Just trying to brighten up the place.”  
“I can see that,” he glanced around the room, “Not really the season for roses.”  
Clara frowned at him, suddenly feeling very silly for having gone through all the trouble. “You don't like it?”  
The Doctor laughed once more. “I do like it. I like the fresh curtains and the tablecloth and the flowers. And also the fact that the house looks cleaner than on the day I bought it,” suddenly his arms were around her waist, pulling her closer against him, “But the best addition is still you.”  
“Well, I should be cause I'm responsible for the rest,” Clara grinned at him in reply before the Doctor bent down and kissed her lips.  
“You could stay,” he whispered, his lips still close to her own, “If you like.”  
“I'd love to.”  
And with that the Doctor kissed her once more, not pulling away before they had both run out of air. Then suddenly Clara saw something move in front of the window and she turned her head, only to realize that there was nothing there.  
“Did you see that?” she asked him, but the Doctor just stared back at her.  
“No,” he replied, “What was it?”  
Once more Clara glanced out of the window, yet all she saw were passers-by, minding their own business.  
“Nothing,” she said absent-mindedly, “For a moment I thought there was someone looking into our window.”  
All of the sudden the Doctor chuckled.  
“What is it?”  
“I love how you said that it's _our_ window,” he smiled and pulled her back against his chest, “We really need to get the rest of your things as soon as possible.”  
“Yes, we do,” Clara replied, grinning.

* * *

The Doctor waited nervously for Clara to get ready. He had made a reservation at a nice restaurant and he wouldn't miss it. Tonight was important. Tonight he would tell her about his work as private detective, he would tell her that he knew Mendon and why that man was after her. He would tell her everything – except about Danny of course. Clara would understand, he was sure of that, especially after she had agreed to move in with him permanently. But the Doctor needed to get this off his chest before that happened.  
“Okay, I'm ready,” Clara announced and the Doctor looked up and suddenly felt a little lost for words. She was wearing the pearls he had given her and she was looking more beautiful than ever now that he knew she was his.  
“Where are you taking me?” Clara asked him curiously as he helped her into her coat.  
“Just a nice restaurant,” he replied.  
“Is there a special occasion?”  
The Doctor turned towards the door. “No,” he lied, but when Clara appeared next to him, eyeing him closely, he realized that she hadn't bought that.  
“And what is the real occasion?” she continued.  
The Doctor let out a heavy sigh. “Before you move in with me, there are a couple of things I would like you to know. You've told me everything about yourself, so I guess it would be only fair if you knew everything about me.”  
Clara frowned at him. “Is it that bad?”  
“No,” he said immediately, “It's nothing bad. It's just things I would like you to know before. . .”  
“Okay,” she agreed and suddenly he felt her hand around his, “We can talk about it over dinner. But let's go now, I'm starving.”  
When Clara flung the front door open, the Doctor realized to his dismay that there was a visitor waiting for them in front of it and from one moment to the next the life he had started to imagine with Clara was blown away like a leaf in the wind.  
“Hello Edith,” he greeted her with a low voice.  
Clara seemed frozen on the spot for a long moment, gawking at the young soldier in front of them. The Doctor tried to hold on to her hand, but it slipped from his grasp only seconds later.  
“Danny,” she uttered and with that all his hopes and dreams seemed to have been crushed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the cliffhanger :D And sorry for everything that is about to follow.  
> And thank you for the comments :)

“I knew something wasn't right,” Danny growled, now staring straight at the Doctor, “I thought you were keeping something from me, but I knew for sure when you put the wrong birthday on the death certificate. I've looked it up in the old newspapers. There was no accident. Edith is alive and you stole her from me!”  
“I had my reasons,” the Doctor replied, but before he could continue Clara stepped forward, placing her hand on Danny's shoulder, obviously trying to make sure he was really there. She still seemed to be in shock over his sudden appearance.  
“Danny, I thought you were dead,” she uttered, “They said so. They said your plane was struck down. How can you even be here?”  
“I survived,” he told her, reaching out to take hold of both her hands, “I wrote to you when I was recovering, but when I came home all the letters were at our flat, all of them unopened. You were gone and I had no idea what had happened to you.”  
“Clara-” the Doctor tried to gain her attention. He had to speak to her, to explain everything, but when Danny glared at him, he decided that it wasn't his time to talk.  
“ _He_ kept us apart,” the soldier spat, “I came to the Doctor for help and he said you were dead and now I know why. He wants you for himself.”  
“Clara's that's not how-”  
“Why do you keep calling her Clara?!” Danny yelled at him, “Her name is Edith!”  
Then finally Clara let go of Danny's hand and turned around to look at him and the Doctor's heart sank into his boots. He had lost. He knew it right then and there, but he wouldn't give her up. He just couldn't. Clara was the only thing that meant something to him and he wouldn't let her go.  
“Doctor, is that true?” she asked him, her voice shaking, “Did you know about Danny? Did you hide this from me?”  
“I-” he paused, “I can explain.”  
Clara turned back around, facing Danny. “I'm gonna need a bit of time. I'll come and talk to you, I promise, but I need you leave right now.”  
“Edith-” Danny tried to reach out to her, but Clara pulled away from him.  
“Please, Danny, I promise I'll talk to you but not right now. I need time, please,” she almost begged him and finally Danny nodded.  
“I'm still living in our old flat,” he told her quietly and, before turning around, he shot the Doctor another dark look. Eventually he started walking away.

The Doctor wasn't quite sure how to start, but as soon as Danny was out of earshot he didn't have to think about it any further as Clara approached him, wearing a terrifying look on her face.  
“Did you know about this?!” she demanded to know, “Did you know that Danny was alive and looking for me?!”  
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.  
“ _Did you or did you not know?!_ ” Clara shouted at a volume he hadn't expected of her. The Doctor flinched. She was enraged and rightly so.  
“Yes, but-”  
“ _But?_ ” Clara gawked at him, “What could possibly justify a lie that big? Doctor, tell me because I don't understand! Why would you keep this from me?”  
“Because I love you,” he blurted out without even meaning to.  
Clara only stared back at him in disbelief and he knew he had to act now or he might lose her forever.  
“He told you the truth,” the Doctor added, “He hired me as a private detective to find you and I did. I was planning to tell him about you but then we. . . happened. You and I and. . . I fell in love with you.”  
He let his shoulders sink, looking right at her. Her features softened slowly.  
“That is not a reason to lie to me. That's not how you build a relationship,” she stated weakly.  
“I know,” he replied, “I know that but I was scared. I didn't want to lose you and I knew I would if you found out about Danny. I knew you would go back and live in that shabby, little place even though you deserve better. He can't take care of you, Clara, not like I can.”  
Suddenly her face turned back into a frown. “That's not what this is about, Doctor. I don't care about how big your house is or what you can afford!” Clara reached around her neck and took off the pearl necklace, trying to hand it back to him. “I don't care about what gifts you can give me. I just want a good man. One who isn't lying to me.”  
Clara held the pearl necklace in his direction, but the Doctor didn't move. He'd be damned if he let her give those pearls back.  
“Take them!” she yelled.  
“No,” the Doctor growled in reply, “They're yours.”  
After taking a deep breath Clara finally nodded. “Fine,” she spat, “I'm going home now. Don't follow me.”  
When Clara turned around on her heels, the Doctor's first instinct was to follow her, but he realized that Clara would scratch his eyes out if he tried. He had messed up and he needed to give her time to think. But he wouldn't just let her go.

* * *

Clara had been standing in front of Danny's door for minutes, not knowing whether she should actually knock or leave. She couldn't even really say what she was so afraid of. Maybe it was finding that yesterday had been nothing but a bad dream and Danny was still dead. Maybe she was scared because she had lied to him, just like the Doctor had lied to her, and Clara knew now how much that hurt. She had been lying awake all night, thinking about the two men in her life and the only thing she felt was confusion.  
Finally Clara inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.  
Danny took a moment, but a while later the door opened and his face turned into a smile immediately. “Hello Edith,” he said gently.  
“Hey,” Clara greeted him with a shy smile, “Sorry about last night. But I couldn't talk then. I needed a moment.”  
“It's alright,” he reassured her and held the door open a little wider, “You're here now. That's all that matters.”

Clara stepped inside her old flat and instantly realized that not much had changed. Even her wedding dress was still hanging exactly where she had left it.  
“You kept the dress,” she blurted out in surprise, “I thought you'd sell it.”  
“Why would I sell it?” Danny gave a nervous laugh.  
“Well,” she gestured towards the white lace dress, “Cause you need the money.”  
“So do you.”  
Clara turned around to look at him and realized that he was right. Yet when she had moved out after hearing the news about Danny's death, she hadn't been able to bring herself to take the dress as well. It had seemed the more reasonable choice to leave it for Danny's relatives to sell.  
“Or we could not sell it at all,” Danny suggested hopefully.  
Clara sighed, not really knowing how to tell him. Danny had spent his time since the end of the war trying to get back to her while she had moved on with her life. Marrying him was simply out of the question, at least for the time being.  
“Danny,” Clara began slowly, “I wanted to marry you, I really did. But you disappeared and they told me you were dead. I grieved for you and eventually I moved on. I'm still not entirely convinced I've not made up the last 24 hours in my head.”  
“You need time,” he nodded, “I get that.”  
“But there are things I need to tell you. About me. And I want to know all about you, how you've been,” she explained, “Maybe you won't even want to marry me after you've heard everything about me.”

Danny sank down on the sofa and after a while Clara followed his example. Neither of them spoke for a long moment until Danny finally gestured towards her to start.  
Then she told him. Starting with how they had met, how she had dropped the papers with her false name, she told him what she had done during the war and Danny simply nodded, taking it all in before he told her about himself in return. Clara knew that she couldn't go back to him right away. They would have to get to know each other, _really_ know each other and that would be a long process.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, guys :) You're worried what's going to happen? Well, hold on tight!

“What are you gonna do?” Amy asked her as she handed Clara a cup of tea.  
Clara reached out and thankfully accepted the hot beverage, closing her fingers tightly around the mug. “Honestly?” Clara sighed, “I have no idea.”  
She sipped the hot drink carefully while Amy took a seat next to her.  
“Well, do you love Danny?”  
Clara considered it for a moment and the sad truth was that she couldn't even reply with a yes. “I loved him,” she admitted, “But that was before I thought he was dead. I moved on. I can't just snap back and undo what has happened in the meantime. But maybe we can work on it. I want to at least try.”  
Amy nodded slowly. “And what about the Doctor?”  
“He lied to me,” Clara replied angrily.  
Suddenly her friend smiled at her. “That wasn't an answer to my question. And as far as you've told me he did it because he loves you.”  
“It doesn't matter,” she spat in reply, “Even if I love him, he would have to come up with one hell of an apology for me to even consider going back to him.”  
Clara paused, sighing. “I'm just disappointed, you know? He was the first person I was completely honest with and then he lied to me about something so big. How could we possibly have a future like that?”  
“I don't know,” Amy admitted and took a sip from her tea.  
“I think I'm gonna go for a walk,” Clara decided and rose from her seat, “Clear my head a little.”  
Her friend frowned at her. “Now? It's late and dark and above all freezing.”  
“I just need some fresh air,” she replied desperately, “I can't sleep anyway.”

 

Clara reached for her jacket and headed downstairs, the icy wind hitting her as soon as she stepped outside, but the cool sensation felt good on her skin. At the very least it was a welcome distraction from the turmoil that was going on inside her mind. For months she had wished for Danny to be alive and return to her, but that had been a long time ago and now that he was truly back and wanted to be with her, Clara wasn't quite so sure she wanted it any longer. Danny was sweet and he was certainly a good man and Clara was glad that he was alive, but she just couldn't bring herself to feel the same things for him that she had once felt. Too much had happened in the meantime.  
The Doctor had happened and yes, she had come to love him. But how could she possibly forgive him for what he had done? It wasn't just the fact that she had falsely put her trust in him, it seemed that he hadn't trusted her enough to tell her about Danny. She had been over him. She wouldn't have left the Doctor to be with Danny.  
“Clara, can we talk?”  
His voice tore her out of her thoughts and Clara turned around on her heels.  
“I thought I had told you not to follow me,” she barked at him.  
The Doctor's shoulders sank and he looked downright helpless as he stared at her. “I can't let you wander around London at night. It's not safe.”  
“Why?!” she yelled in reply.  
The Doctor didn't respond.  
“I don't need protecting, Doctor, I am not a child and I refuse to be treated as such!”  
“Clara,” he took a deep breath, “I love you and I want to keep you safe. That is all I care about and there is one more thing that you need to know.”

Suddenly there was a sound coming out of the shadows behind the Doctor that resembled a sound she had heard before. But that was a long time ago in a life she was trying very hard to forget. The cocking of a gun.  
Then Clara could make out the silhouette of a gun and that of the man holding it, and once he had stepped into the light, she recognized the man as the one who had followed her on several occasions. Only now he had brought a weapon.  
“That one thing would be me,” the man sneered at the both, “And protecting you can't have been much of a priority for him when he didn't even bring a weapon to defend himself with.”  
“I hate guns,” the Doctor grumbled in reply and took a step back when the stranger was pointing his weapon at him, “And this is unnecessary. You were wrong.”  
“I very much doubt that,” he replied, “This woman is a spy. You're covering for her, but she will still meet the same fate as all the others. You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Doctor?”  
“You two know each other?” Clara blurted out in disbelief.  
“Clara is not a spy,” the Doctor barked at the other man, “Lower the gun and we will explain it to you.”  
He laughed. “Yeah, and I'm sure it's going to be a very well rehearsed story.”

Clara took a deep breath. She had had enough of it all. She had been treated like a child and she had been lied to for way too long and it would stop right then and there.  
“ _Will you stop ignoring me and listen to what I say?!_ ” she shouted at them and at the sharpness of her voice they both turned to look at her, seeming more than a little surprised. But Clara wasn't done yet.  
“Doctor, do you know this man and did you neglect to me about it?!”  
The Doctor slowly nodded. “James Mendon and I worked together during the war to catch spies.”  
“And now he's protecting them,” Mendon added disparagingly, “He's been protecting you for months and I've given him time. Well, time's up.”  
He raised his gun and pointed it straight at her, but for some reason Clara didn't feel the least bit scared. She had been scared so often in her life that she seemed to have run short of that feeling. All she really felt was rage. For the Doctor. For Danny. For Mendon. They could all go to hell and leave her be.  
Clara stepped forward. “I am not a spy,” she said sharply, “I don't care whether you believe me or not. I don't care what anyone thinks! My past is my past!”  
“Clara,” the Doctor warned her in a low voice and stepped a little closer.  
“You will leave me alone,” she threatened him.  
Still Mendon kept his gun pointed straight at her and still Clara couldn't bring herself to be afraid. She had faced death several times during the war and she had gotten away. She would get away again this time.  
“Clara, please, just tell him the truth,” the Doctor begged her.  
“No,” she shook her head, “He doesn't deserve the truth.”

All of a sudden the gun was gone from her view as the Doctor jumped in front of her in an attempt to disarm Mendon. Both men toppled over and fell backwards. Helplessly Clara watched them struggle for the weapon and at that precise moment she realized one important thing: that the last thing she wanted was for the Doctor to get hurt. He couldn't be without him. She didn't want to be without him.

Then a shot was fired.


	25. Chapter 25

Rory set the box down in the living room and Clara granted him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” she said, “That was the last one. I can take care of the rest.”  
“Sure?” Rory cocked an eyebrow at her.  
Clara nodded. “Yes. We'll have you over for dinner once we're settled in. And I'm sure there's an extra soufflé in for you for your help.”  
“I'm going to miss those, to be honest,” Rory admitted cheekily.  
Clara laughed and gave him a friendly nudge. “I'll give Amy the recipe.”

Once Rory had left Clara inhaled deeply and looked around her new home and she could feel it in her heart that she had made the right decision. She would be happy. _They_ would be happy.  
She turned around and walked into the bedroom where the Doctor was sitting up in bed, reading the morning newspaper. He smiled at her when she entered the room and Clara felt once more reassured of her decision. She loved him and he loved her and it couldn't be any other way. Forgiving him hadn't been easy, but he had saved and protected her so many times, even if it meant risking his own life in the process, that every doubt about his feelings for her was wiped away.  
“Stay put,” she warned him harshly when she saw that he was making an attempt to get up. Instead she sank down on the bed next to him.  
“I'm not an invalid,” the Doctor argued grumpily.  
“No, you just have three broken ribs that need healing.”  
With a sigh he sank back against the pillows, but Clara didn't miss the way he was looking at her.  
“What's wrong?” she asked him.  
In reply the Doctor held the newspaper in her direction. “Mendon's trial starts today,” he explained, “I'm hoping for the best.”  
Clara glanced at the article. During their fight Mendon had caused the Doctor's broken ribs, but eventually he had managed to overpower their attacker, shooting him in the arm. That had given Clara enough time to call the police, who had instantly arrested Mendon and he was now facing a number of charges.  
“He killed innocent people, thinking they were spies. He almost raped me. He attacked us both. Not to mention all the things he has done during the war that you told me about. How could he possibly get away?” Clara asked him.  
The Doctor shrugged. “I'm hoping he won't. For your sake.”

Clara sighed and rested her head on the Doctor's shoulder and carefully the Doctor placed his arm around her.  
“Rory brought over my things earlier,” Clara said after a moment, grinning, “I have officially moved in with you.”  
“Does Danny know yet?”  
Suddenly Clara's happiness started to fade when she remembered what was still ahead of her. “No,” she replied, “I'm meeting him for coffee in the afternoon. I'll tell him then.”  
“Do you want me to come with you?” the Doctor asked gently.  
Clara snorted in reply. “I don't think Danny would appreciate that very much. Besides, you're still confined to your bed.”  
“Right.”  
“I'll tell him,” Clara craned her neck to look at the Doctor, “I think he already suspects it. Still, I want a clean break. He spent almost two years hoping to come back to me. I shouldn't keep him hoping.”  
The Doctor leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.  
“And when that is all settled and I'm back on my feet, we should talk about the state of your hands,” the Doctor said after a moment.  
Clara frowned at him. “The state of my hands? What?”  
“Yeah,” he smiled at her, “They're quite empty. I think a ring would be a massive improvement.”  
Clara laughed when the realisation of what he had suggested was beginning to sink in and she rested her head back against his shoulder. “Yeah,” she smiled, liking that idea very much, “We'll talk about that then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting on my story :) All this amazing feedback just makes me wanna write more and more. Thank you so much for that!!! You are seriously the best! *big group hug*  
> I have already started a new fic – Matters of the Heart – and I'll be posting a full length first chapter of it **tomorrow** :) Hope so see you again for that one.


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